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George  Washington  Flowers 
Memorial  Collection 

DUKE  UNIVERSITY  LIBRARY 


ESTABLISHED  BY  THE 
FAMILY  OF 

COLONEL  FLOWERS 


TREASUK>  »^OOM 


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iJJSS  PI'AVM!>8  sporTKi;  AXI^^rifK  YA"NUHK. 


RECOLLECTIOIIS  OF  AN  OLD  MAN, 


I  dedidbte  then  Sketches  to  all  who  will  pay  me  the  com^imeBt  to  Mad  then. 


\ 


I 


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PRKFATF,. 

1 


I  iiRvr  wrift<^n  ,:.i  of.tho  o^nterUinmont 

there  #aa  in  tiiss  employing  Bome  of  the  tino  in  whicli  I  had  noth 
inl)g  else  to  do.  I  am  now.  goiiig  to  publish  them.  be(^U!H>  I  trns' 
thoy    wil!    impart  tc  issurediy,  hot  tho  same  amount,  but 

enough  to  have  mc  excustci.  both  f  ■  tin;::  -lod   for  the  pub 

lishiiir      1  :iin  willii/,:;  (hat  this  be  tliuught  au  apology  instead  c Z"  ^ 
prcfaqe  ;  and  if  it  be  not  a  sufficient  one,  It  is  ike  groat,  I  insist. 
man  at  my  time  of  life  onght  to  be  expected  to  make.  T    j~ 

V.  S.  J  trust  that  those  who  have  had  either  of  the  first  two  <'■ 
these  etories,  (the  former  in  Porter's  Spirit  of  Lho  Times,  tho  latter  i» 
the  Field  and  Fireside,)  will  not'acrionsly  object  to  see  them  again 
and  in  this  present  form 


Treasure  Room  '^  ""-^P 


A  GEORGIA  SCHOOL  IN  THE  OLD  TIMES. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"You  Ciill  this  cducatioa,  do  you  not"' 

Why  'tis  the  forced  march  of  a  herd  ol  bullock-. 

Before  a  shouting  drover.'' 

Books  ! — There  is  nothing  terrible  in  this  simple  word.     On  the 
contrary,  it  is  a  most  harmless  word.    It  suggests  quiet  and  contem- 
plation ,  and  though  it  be  true,  that  books  do  often  produce  agita- 
tio)i8  in  the  minds  of  men  and  in  the  state  of  society  itself — some- 
times even  effecting  great  revolutions — yet,  the  simple  enunciation 
of  the  word,  it  would  seem,  could  never  be  adequate  to  the  production 
of  even  the  smallest  amount  of  excitement.    As  little  would  it  seem, 
in  looking  upon  it  from  any  point  of  view  into  which  one  could  get 
one's  self,  to  be  capable  of  allaying  excitement  and  producing  the 
most  sudden  and  perfect  stillness.    I  never  could  exactly  tell  why 
it  is,  that  as  often  as  I  have  rer-d  of  the  custom  in  England,  of  read 
ing  the  Riot  Act,  during  the  progress  of  a  riot,  and  begun  to  wonder 
how  sucli  an  exercise  was  available  in  quelling  it,  my  mind  has 
recurred  to  i\ie  incidents  about  to  be  narrated,  and  been  made  at 
last,  however  reluctantly,  .0  admit  that  the  reading  of  the  Act 
aforesaid,  might  bb  as  proper  a  thing  as  could  be  done  on  such  an 
occasion.    For  there  \Tas  one  point  of  view,  or  rather  a  point  of 
hearing,  from  which  one  could  observe  the  above  last  mentioned 
phenomenon  produced  by  the  utterence  of  the  word  which  begins 
this  story,  twice  a  day  for  five  days  in  a  week.    It  was  the  word  of 
command  with  which  Mr.  Israel  Meadows  was  wont  to  announce  to 
the  pupils  of  the  Goosepolid  .school-house,  the  opening  of  the  school 
morning  and  afternoon. 

354*^18 


4  HTMOEOCS   TALE.*. 

The  GcKMcpoad  xraa  situated  in  one  of  Uic  counties  of  Middle 
Georgia,  on  the  edge  of  an  old  field,  with  original  oak  and  hickory 
woods  en  three  sides,  and  vn  the  other  a  dense  pine  thicket. — 
Through  this  latter  there  lay  a  path  which  led  to  the  school  from  a 
neighboring  planter's  hou.sc  where  Mr.  Meadows  boarded.  The 
Bchool-houKc  it3clf,  a  rude  hut  built  of  log-^,  was  about  one  hundred 
and  twenty  yards  frotn  this  thicket,  at  the  point  where  the  path 
emerged  from  it. 

One  cold,  frosty  moruing,  nCur  the  viobc  ol  November,  about  twenty 
boys  and  girlp  wcrr  assembled  as  usual  at  the  Gouscpund,  waiting 
for  the  master.    Some  of  botl||bexeB  were  studying  their  lessons  and 
some  were  playing — the  boys  at  bull-pen,  the  girls  at  jnmpijig  the  rope 
— but  Cill  of  them,  witb  one  exception — those  studying  and  those 
playing,  tlie  form*,  though,  itie  most  eagerly — were  watching  the 
mouth   of  the   path  at  which    the   Diaster   was   expected.     Those 
studying  were  the  most  anxiou.'--.     The  players  seemed  to  think  the 
gamo  worth  the  candle  ;  though  the  rope  jillhpers  jumped  with  their 
faccB  toward  the  thicket  ;  the  boy.s   invariably  ran  to  the  corner 
nearest  to  it  when  they  were  about  to  throw  the  ball,  and  looking 
behind  a  moment,  would  instantly  turn  and  throw  it  at  his  man  in 
the  opposite  direction.     The  students,  they  walked  to  and  fio  before 
the  door,  all  studying  aloud,  and  apparently  exhibiting  the  grcatesL 
anxiety  to  transfer  the  secwets  of  knowledge  which  the  books  con- 
tained into  their  little  heads.     There  was  one  boy  in  particular  whofK' 
eagerness  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge  seemed  to  amount  to  a 
most  violent  passion,     lie  was  a  raw-boned  boy  o^  fifteen  years, 
with  very  light,  coarse  hair,  and  a  freckled  face,    fio  ^^'ore  A  round 
about  and  pants  of  worn  walnut  dyed   homepP^";  an  old  sealskin 
cap   and  rod  brogans  without  sock.".     He  b*^  come  up   after  all  the 
others  had  gotten  there.     He  lived  thre<^  miles  and  a  half  from  tlic 
Bchool-bonto,  and   walked  the  way   forth  and  back  every   day.     He 
came  up  shivering  and  studying,  pofforming  both  of  these  apparently 
inconsistent  operations  with  great  violence. 

'Hallo,  Brinkly !'  Aoutod   half  a  do/.en   boys.     'Got  in   in  time 
this  mornbg,  eh  ?  ha !  ha  I    Why,  you  are  too  soon,  my  boy.     He 


HUMOROUS   TALES.  •  5 

won't  be  here  fora  quarter  of  an  hour  yet.  Come  and  help  us  out 
with  the  bull-pen.  Now,  look  at  him,  got  that  etorual  jography,  and 
actily  a  studyin  it,  and  he  nig'h  an  in  about  friz.  Put  the  book  down 
am  go  an  Warn  yourself  a  bit,  and  come  and  take  Rill  Jones'  jjlace- 
lie  his  day  to  make  fires.     Come,  we've  got  the  inses.' 

This  last  was  addressed  by  the  'one  excepfiou'  above  lueutioaed, 
a  large,  well  grown,  s^uarc-i-houldered  boy,  eighteen  years  old, 
named  Allen  Thigpen.  Brinkly  Glisson  paid  no  attention  to  the 
invitation  ;  but  came  on  tip  shivering  and  studying,  and  studying 
and  shivering  ;  and  just  as  he  passed  Allen  he  announced  tlie  follow- 
ing proposition  : 

'A-an  emp-pi-re  is  a  c-c-ountry  ge-geoverncd  by  an  c-oui]  -i  r.' 
'Now  ordinarily,  the  announcement  of  this  proposition,  would 

think  would  be  entirely  incapable  to  excite  any  uncomraon  iiuiount 
of  risibility.  It  contains  a  simple  truth  and  'Expresses  it  iji  simple 
terms.  And  yet,  so  it  was,  that  Mr.  A.llen  Thigpen  burst  into  a  roar 
of  laughter  :  and  as  if  he  understood  that  th^  proposition  ha/1  been 
submitted  to  him  for  ratification  or  denial,  answered, 

'Well,  Brinklj',  spozcn  it  is.  Who  in  'J\v  dickens  sni'l  't  vrere'nt? 
I  didn't  ;  did  you,  Sam  Pate  ?' 

•Do  what?'  asked  Sam,  pausing  in^e  act  ot  throwing  the  ball. 
'Did  you  say  that  a  empire  want  a — what  Brinkly  said  it  was  ?* 
'I  didn't  hear  what  Brinkly  naid  it  was.'  ^ 

Allen  strode  up  behind  Brinkly  and  looking  over  his  shoulder' 
said  slowly,  'A  country  governed  by  an  emperor.' 

'No,  I  never  said  nothin  about  it :  and  1  don't  know  n  >thin  about 
it ;  nur  I  don't  keer  nothin  about  it  neither.'  And  away  went  tlie 
ball,  but  Sam  had  thrown  it  too  suddenly,  after  looking  towards  the 
mouth  of  the  path,  and  he  missed  hig  man. 

Allen  laughed  exceedingly  at  this  effort  ot  humor.  Bu'.  Brinkly 
did  not  even  notice  the  interruption.  Hr  walked  to  and  fro,  and 
Aivered  and  studied.  H^  bowed  to  the  book  ;  he  dug  into  it  ;  he 
grated  hia  teeth,  not  in  anger,  but  in  his  eagerness  to  oet  what  was 
a  it ;  be  tried  to  fasten  it  in  bis  head,  whether  o.'-  not.  ty  slightly 

354718 


6  «  nUMOROS  TUJiS. 

cbaDging  the  words,  and  making  them,  as  it  were,  his  own  to  com, 
taand. 

'An  ycmpirc.'  said  he  fiercely,  but  not  over  loudly,  'ia  a  ke-untrj 
gc-uvcrncd  by  ;in  yc-emperor." 

'And  what  is  a  yc-cmpcror,  Brinkly  ?'  asked  Allen,  aud  he  laughed 
ag.rn. 

'Oh,  Allen,  please  go  away  and  let  mc  alone.  I  almost  had  it. 
You  know  Mr.  Meadows  will  beat  me  if  I  don't  get  it ;  }ou  know  he 
loVcs  to  beat  mc  any  how.  Do  let  me  alone  ;  it  sorter  begins  to 
come  to  mc  now.'  And  he  went  on  shivering  and  studying,  and 
ehivcringly  announcing,  among  other  things,  that,  'an  y-empire  waa 
a  kc-untry  gc-uvcrncd  Ly  an  ye-cmperor,'  emphasising  each  one  of 
the  pollysyllablcs  in  its  turn  ;  sometimes  stating  the  proposition 
slowly  and  cautiously,  and  rather  interrogatively,  as  if  half  inclined 
to  doubt  it ;  at  others  asserting  it  with  a  vehcmancc  which  showed 
it  to  be  his  settled  convittion  that  it  was  true,  and  tliat  whoovcr 
doubted  it,  knew  nothing  about  the  subject. 

Allen  Thigpon  turned  from  him  and  walked  io  where  a  rosy- 
cheeked  little  fellow,  of  eight  years,  was  sitting  on  a  stump  with  a 
tpelliiig  book  in  his  lap,  and  a  pin  in  his  right  band  with  whicli  he 
dotted  every  fourtli  word,  after  reciting  the  following  : 

'Betsy  Wiggins. 

Heneiittor  Bangs. 

'Mandy  Grizzle. 

'Mine  !  (dot.)     A-1-i-g-h-t  light— alight. 

'Betsy  Wiggins. 

'llcnerittcr  Bangs. 

'Mandy  Grizzle. 

'Mine!  d-c  1-i-g-h-t  light — delight,'  aud  S(?  on. 

I  yi,  my  little  Mr.  Asa,'  said  Allen,  'And  spozcu  Betsy  Wiggiua 
misses  kcr  word,  or  Hcneritter  Bangs  hern,  or  Mandy  Grizzle  hern, 
then  who's  goin  to  spell  'cm'  1  want  to  know  f  And  what'll  you  give 
rac,'  continued  Allen,  placing  liis  rough  hand  with  ironical  fondness 
on  the  child's  head,  'what'll  you  give  mc  not  to  tell  Mr.  Meadows 
you've  been  gittin  your  own  words  ?' 

'Oh,  Allen,  pleaic  don't' 


HUMOROUS  TALES.  7 

'Wliat'll  you  give  me  ?' 

'Twenty  chestnuts.'  And  the  little  fellow  dived  into  his  pockets, 
and,  counting  out  twenty,  handed  them  to  Allen. 

'Got  any  more  ?'  asked  Mr.  Thigpen,  cracking  one  with  his  teeth.' 

'Oh,  Allen,  please  don't  take  'em  all.' 

Out  with  'em,  you  little  word  gitter.  A  boy  that  picks  otit  worda 
aint  liable  to  eat  chestnusts.' 

Asa  disgorged  to  the  last  one.  Allen  ate  one  or  two,  looking 
qiiizically  into  the  child's  face,  and  then  handed  the  rest  back  to 
him. 

'Take  your  chestnuts,  Asa  Boatright,  and  eat  'em.  If  ever  I  git  to 
be  as  feared  of  a  human  as  you  and  Brinkly  Glisson  is^of  Iserl 
Meadows,  drot  my  hide  ef  I  don't  believe  I  will  commit  sovicide  on 
myeelf— yes,  on  myself,  by  cutting  my  own  throat. 

'Yes,'  answered  Asa,  'you  can  talk  so  because  you  arc  a  big  boy* 
and  you  know  he's  afraid  of  you.  If  you  was  as  little  as  me,  you 
would  be  as  afraid  of  him  as  me.  If  I  ever  git  a  man' — the  little 
fellow  was  about  to  continue  whimpering,  but  suddenly  checking 
himself,  he  took  his  pin  and  mumbled  : 

'Betsy  Wiggins. 

'Heneritter  Bangs. 

'Mandy  Grizzle. 

'Mine  !'  he  resumed  his  interesting  and  ingenious  occupation  of 
dotting  every  fourth  word.  Brinkly  had  overheard  Allen's  tamit- 
and  closing  his  book,  after  a  pause  of  a  few  seconds,  he  walked 
straight  up  to  him  and  said  : 

'Allen  Thigpeij,  I  am  no  more  afraid  of  him  than  you  are  ;  nor 
than  I  am  of  you.  T  aint  waiting  to  git  to  be  a  man  to  pay  him 
back  for  the  beating  he  has  given  me.  Do  you  think  that's  what 
make?  ra«  stand  what  I  do?  If  you  do,  you  are  much  mistaken. 
Allen,  I'm  trying  all  the  time  hard  to  keep  down  on  niotlier's 
account.  I've  told  her  of  some  of  his  treatment  to  me,  and  tkat  I 
wouldn't  stand  it ;  and  she  s  always  crying  and  telling  me  she  is  so 
anxious  for  mc  to  git  an  education,  and  that  its  my  only  chance  ; 
and    it  does  seem  it  would  nigh  and  in   about  kill  her  if  I  was  to 


P  BUM0R0D6   TALES. 

loose  it,  that  I  have  been  trying  all  I  could  to  git  the  lessons,  and  to 
keep  from  fighting  him  when  he  beats  mc  ;  and  T  could  git  'em  if  I 
had  a  chance.  But  the  fact  is,  I  aint  got  on  far  caough  in  reading 
to  hare  Ivtn  put  in  this  jugraphj  :  and  he's  Just  put  me  in  it  before 
I  learned  to'read  right,  jutt  to  git  out  of  mother  the  extra  pay  fo'- 
jography  ;  and  J  can't  git  it,  and  I  haven't  learnt  anything  since  1' 
have  been  put  into  it :  and,  Allen  Thigpcn,  I  am  not  going  to  stand 
it  much  loiigcr,  nor  I  aint  ;,''oing' 1  •-'•••::  chestnuts  not  to  tell 
him  I  said  so  neither," 

'Hooraw !'  shouted  Allen.  'Give  mc  your  hand,  Brinkly  "  In  a 
lower  tone  he  continued,  'By  jingo,  I  thought  it  was  iu  you.  I  seen 
you  many  a  time  when,  thinks  I  to  myself,  it  wouldn't  take  much  to 
make  Bi  inkly  Glisson  fight  you,  old  fellow.'  Then  taking  him  a  little 
way  ofi",  ho  whispered,  '3'ou'vc  stood  enough  already,  and  too  much, 
too.  my  blood  has  bilcd  many  ;i  time  when  hca  Lecu  a  beating 
you.  Don't  you  sta»d  it  no  longer.  Ef  be  beats  you  again,  pitch 
into  him.  Try  to  ride  him  from  the  ingoin.  lie  can  maul  you  I 
expect,  but  look  at  this,'  and  Allen  raised  his  fist,  about  the  size  of  u 
mallet. 

Brinkly  looked  at  the  big  fist  and  brawny  arm.  and  smiled  dis- 
mally. 

'Books  !'  .shouted  a  voi«e,  and  Mr.  Israel  Meadow.-  emerged  from 
the  thicket  with  a  handfull  of  hickory  switches. 

In  an  iii.-:tant  there  was  a  rushing  of  boys  and  girlfc  into  the 
house-  all  except  AlloB,  who  look  his  time.  Asa  Boatright  was  the 
last  of  ihf  others  to  get  in.  He  had  changed  hia  positioB  from  the 
btuinji.  atid  was  walking,  look  in  hand,  appaveutly  alJ-absorbed  in 
its  contciits,  though  his  eye  was  on  the  schoul-mastfir,  whose  notice 
he  WH.s  endeavoring  to  attract.  Book  iu  hand,  he  bowed  and  digged 
and  dived,  until,  as  the  master  drew  near,  he  weariedly  looked  ap 
and  seeing  him  (^uite  unexpectedly,  gavf  one  uktc  profound  divo 
into  his  book  and  darted  into  the  house- 
It  w.:.-!  a  rule  .H  tiic  Goosepond,  that  the  scholarri  should  all  be  in 
and  ii  tiicir  wats  when  Mr.  Mcadowe  arrived.  His  wont  was  to 
slt.iut  'Hulks'  from    the  mouth  of  the  path,  then  to  walk   with  great 


HTJMOROrS    TALES.  9 

rapidity  to  the  houbc.  Woe  to  tlie  boy  or  giri  who  was  ever  too  late, 
iinkss  it  happened  to  be  Allen  Thigpen,  He  had,  some  months 
before  been  heard  to  say  that  ding  any  sich  rule,  and  he  wasn't 
going  to  break  Lis  neck  for  Israel  Meadows  nor  nobody  else  ;  and 
so  he  was  wont  to  take  his  time.  If  he  got  in  behind  the  master, 
which  frequently  happened,  that  gentleman  was  kind  enough  not 
to  notice  it — an  illustration  of  an  exception  to  the  good  discipline  of 
country  school-masters,  which  was  quite  common  in  the  times  in 
which  Mr.  Meadows  lived  and  flourished. 

On*this  occasion,  when  Mr.  Meadows  saw  Allen,  knowing  that 
the  gait  at  which  himself  was  walking  would  take  him  into  the  house 
before  Allen  would  get  in,  he  halted  a  little,  and  taking  a  step  or 
two,  stooped,  and  having  untied  one  of  his  shoe  strings,  tied  it  again. 
While  this  operation  was  going  on,  Allen  went  in.  Mr.  Meadows 
rising  immediately,  struck  into  a  brisk  walk,  as  if  to  apologise  for 
his  delay,  and  then  entered  into  the  scene  of  his  daily  triumphs. 

ButlJeforc  we  begin  the  day's  work,  let  us  inquire  who  this  Mr. 
Meadows  was  and  whence  he  came. 

CHAPTER  II. 

Mr.  Israel  Meadows  was  a  man  of  thirty-five  or  forty  years  of  age 
five  feet  ten  inches  in  height,  with  a  lean  figure,  dav!:  complexion, 
very  black  and  shaggy  hair  and  eyebrow-,  n-  <1  -.i  g.liu  and  forbidding 
expression  of  countenance.     The  ^^^   •  ..  fining  the  youthful 

mind  and  leading  it  to  the  fovuitains  vt  wj.^idom,  as  delightful  and 
interesting  as  it  is,  was  not  in  fact  Mr.  Meadows'  choice,  when,  on 
arriving  at  manhoods  estate,  he  looked  around  him  for  a  career  in 
which  he  might  the  most  surely  developc  and  advance  his  being  in 
this  life.  Indeed,  those  who  had  been  the  witnesses  of  his  youth  and 
young  manhood,  and  of  the  opportunities  which  he  had  been  favored 
withal  for   getting  in.struction  for  him.9clf,  were  no   little  surprised 

when  they  heard  that  in  the  county  of ,  their  old  acquaintence 

had  undertaken,  and  was  in  tlic  actual  prosecuti*;n  tif  the  profession 
of  a  school-master.  About  one  hundred  miles  from  the  Goosepond, 
was  the  spot  which  had  the  honor  of  giving  him  birth  In  a,  pot- 
tage on  ©ne  of  the  roads  leading  to  the  «ity  of  Augusta,  there  hsd 


1^  BUMOKOeS   TALBC. 

lived  *  couple  who  cnltivaled  a  faiir,  and  traded  with  the  waggoners 
of  those  days,  bj  bartoring,  for  money  and  groceries,  corn,  fodder, 
potatoes,  and  such  like  commoditieii  It  was  :i  matter  never  fully 
accountable  how  it  was,  that  Mr.  Timothy  Meadows,  during  all 
reasons,  had  corn  to  eel).  Drought  or  French  afl'ected  his  crib  alike 
— that  is,  they  did  not  affect  it  at  all.  When  a  wagoner  wished  to 
buy  corn,  Timothy  Meadows  generally,  if  not  always,  bad  a  little  to 
spare.  People  used  to  intimate  sometimes  that  it  was  mighty  curious 
that  some  folks  could  always  have  corn  to  sell,  while  other  folks 
couldn't.  Such  observations  were  made  in  reference  to  no  individual 
in  particular,  but  were  generally  made  by  one  farmer  to  another, 
when  perchance,  they  had  just  ridden  by  Mr.  Meadows'  heuse  while 
a  wagoner's  team  was  feeding  at  his  camp.  To  this  respectable  couple 
there  bad  been  born  only  one  offspring,  a  daughter.  Miss  Clary 
Meadows  had  lived  to  the  age  of  twenty-four,  aud  had  nevei ,  within 
the  knowledge  of  any  of  the  neighbors,  had  the  first  bean.  If  to  the 
fact  that  her  father's  always  having  corn  to  sell,  without  his  neigMjors 
knowing  exactly  bow  he  came  by  it,  had  to  a  considerable  extent 
discouraged  visiting  between  their  families  and  liis  (though  it  must 
be  owned  that  this  was  not  the  fault  of  the  Mcadowses,  who  had  re- 
peatedly, in  spite  of  their  superior  Ibrtune,  shown  disposition.?  to 
cultivate  good  neighborhood  with  all  the  families  around)  if  to  thi.s 
fact  be  added  the  further  one,  that  Mi.ss  Clary  was  bony,  and,  in  no 
respect,  possessed  of  charms  likely  tu  captivate  a  young  gentleman 
who  had  thoughts  of  marriage,  it  ought  not  to  be  very  surprisiing 
that  she  had,  thus  far,  failed  to  secure  a  hu.sbaud.  Nevertheless, 
Miss  Meadows  was  eminently  affable  when  iu  the  society  of  such 
gentlemen  of  the  wagoners  who  paid  her  the  compliment  to  call 
tipon  her  in  the  house.  So  that  uo  person,  however  suspicious, 
would  have  concluded  from  her  manner  on  .such  occasions,  that  her 
prolonged  state  of  single  blessedness  was  owiflg  to  any  prejudice  to 
the  opposite  sex.  • 

It  is  a  remarkable  tiling — whether  in  physiology  or  p.sychology,  1 
do  really  ngt  know — how  often,  not  only  the  traits  of  character  and 
the  lineaments  of  form  in  parAits  are  inherited  by  their  children,  but 


HUMOROUS    TALES.  11 

their  very  habits  and  ways,  and  eten  the  good  luck  and  bad  luckof  tlici'^ 
lives.  We  have  seen  how  that  Mr*  Meadows  was  wont  to  have  corn 
to  sell  at  all  seasons,  while  nobody  ever  knew  how  he  got  it.  Strange 
and  Hnaccountable  as  this  was,  it  was  not  more  strange  and  unac- 
countable than  a  fact  which,  about  this  period  of  Miss  Clary's  life* 
transpired  in  her  fortunes.  To  make  short  a  long  matter,  Miss  Clary 
bad  a  baby ;  and  in  reference  to  this  same  baby,  as  to  how  it  came 
there,  there  has  been  no  more  definite  information — yea,  even  to  this 
day — than  as  to  how  three-fourths  of  the  corn  which  Timothy 
Meadows  sold,  found  its  way  into  his  crib. 

Israel,  the  baby — another  thing  uncommon  with  children — took  the 
name  of  his  mother.  The  class  of  children  of  which  l^e  was  an  in- 
dividual, are  wont  to  have  no  names  except  such  as  they  can  acquire 
by  reputation.  Generally,  we  know,  society  gives  to  the  young  the 
names  of  their  fathers  ;  and  by  good  rights,  Israel  ought  to  have 
borne  another  name  than  Meadows.  Yea,  doubtless,  he  would  have 
done  so  if  it  had  evef  been  possible  for  him  to  have  found  his  father. 
But  if  he  ever  went  out  upon  that  laudible  and  pious  pursuit,  it  is 
certain  that  he  failed  in  the  prosecution  of  it.  And  so  society,  being 
no  more  successful  than  himself,  pronounced  him  in  legal  terms  nullius 
filius,  which  was  asserting  in  so  many  words,  that  he  never  had  a 
father,  and  considering  Miss  Clary  as  solely  responsible  for  his  coming 
into  the  world,  it  gave  him  her  name  after  he  got  here. 

There  were  many  interesting  occurrences  in  the  early  life  of  Israel 
which  it  would  bo  foreign  to  the  purpose  of  this  history  to  relate.  It  is 
enough  to  say,  that  he  grew  up  under  the  eye  and  training  of  his  grand- 
%ther,  and  soon  showed  that  some  of  the  traits  of  that  gentleman's  charc- 
ter  were  in  no  danger  of  being  lost  to  society  by  a  failure  of  reproduction. 

In  process  of  time,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Meadows  were  gathered  to  their 
fathers,  and  Mi«s  Clary,  yet  unmarried ,  had  become  the  proprietress 
of  the  tottage  and  the  farm.  Israel  had  the  luck  of  the  Meadowses  to 
be  always  able  to  sell  corn  to  the  wagoncr.s.  But  unluckily  the  secret 
which  lay  hidden  in  such  profundity  during  the  lifetime  of  his  grand- 
father, of  how  this  wonderful  faculty  existed,  did  about  sis  months 
previous  to  the  period  when  he  was  introduced  to  the  reader,  tran- 


12  OTTMOROUS    TALB6. 

spire — a  circumstanf  c  which  -would  induce  one  to  suspect,  in  suit*  of 
the  declaration  of  law  in  such  case  made  and  provided,  that  ther« 
wae  something  in  the  blood  of  Israel  which  was  not  all  Meadows. 

One  Saturday  night,  a  (ft)mpany  of  the  neighbors  on  patrol  found  a 
nc<jro  man  issuing  from  the  gate  of  Miss  Meadows'  yard  with  an 
empty  meal  bag.  Having  apprehended  him,  they  had  given  him  not 
more  than  a  dozen  stripes  with  a  cowhide,  before  he  confessed  that  ha 
just  carried  the  bag  full  of  corn  to  Israel  from  his  master's  corn  crib. 
The  company  immediately  aroused  him,  informed  him  what  the  slave 
had  confessed,  and  although  he  did  most  stoutly  deny  any  and  all 
manner  of  connection  with  the  matter,  they  informed  him  that  they 
should  not  leavc^the  premises  until  they  could  go  and  get  a  search 
warrcnt  from  a  neighboring  magistrate,  by  which,  as  their  spokee 
men,  a  shrewd  man,  said,  they  could  identify  the  corn.  This  was  a 
ru&e  to  bring  him  to  terms.  Seeing  his  uneasiness,  they  pushed  on, 
and  in  a  careless  manner  proposed,  that  if  he  would  leave  the  neigh- 
borhood by  the  next  Monday  morning,  they  would  forbear-  to  prose- 
cut€  him  for  this  as  well  as  many  similar  oflences,  his  guilt  of  which 
they  intimated  |they  had  abundant  proof  to  establish.  Israel  was 
caught ;  he  rcflectfed  for  a  few  moments,  and  then,  still,  however, 
asserting  his  innocence,  but  declaring  that  he  did  not  wish  to  reside 
in  a  community  where  he  was  suspected  of  crime,  he  expressed  his 
resolution  to  comply  with  their  demand.  H(*  left  the  next  day. — 
Leaving  his  mother,  he  set  out  to  try  his  fortune  elsewhere,  intend 
ing  that  by  the  time  the  homestead  could  be  disposed  of,  he  would 
remove  with  hoi  to  the  west.  Kut  determining  not  to  be  idle  in<h& 
meantime,  after  wandering  about  lor  several  days  in  search  of  em. 
ploymcnt,  it  suddenly  occurred  to  him  one  night,  after  a  day's  travel, 
that  he  would  endeavor  to  get  a  school  for  tlic  remainder  of  the 
year. 

Now,  Israel's  education  had  been  somewhat  /neglected.  lnd«ed, 
he  had  never  been  to  school  a  day  in  his  whole  life.  But  he  had  at 
home,  under  the  tuition  of  his  mother,  been  taught  reading  and 
writing,  and  his  'j-randlathf  i  hod  imparted  to  him  some  knowledge 
of  arithmetic. 


imifOROUS    TALES.  13 

But  Mr.  Israel  Meadows,  although  not  a  man  of  great  learning-, 
wae  a  great  way  removed  from  being  a  fool.  He  had  a  considerable 
amount  of  the  wisdom  of  Ibis  world,  whicli  comes  to  a  man  from 
other  sources  besides  books.  He  was  like  many  other  men  in  one 
respect.  He  was  not  to  be  restrained  from  taking  office  by  the 
consciousness  of  parts  inadequate  to  the  discharge  of  its  duties. 
This  is  a  species  of  delicacy  which,  of  all  others,  is  attended  by 
fewer  practical  result.?.  Generally  the  most  it  does,  is  to  make  ita 
owner  confess  with  modesty,  his  unfitness  for  the  office,  with  a  he 
'had  hoped  some  worthier  and  better  man  had  been  chosen,'  and 
then  take  it.  Israel  wisely  reflected,  that  with  a  majority  of  man- 
kind, the  only  thing  necessary  to  establish  for  oneself  a  reputation  of 
fitness  for  office,  is  to  run  for  it  and  to  get  into  it.  A  wise  reflectioa 
indeed  ;  acting  on  which,  many  men  have  become  great  in  Georgia, 
and,  I  doubt  not,  elsewhere,  with  no  other  capital  than  the  adroit- 
ness or  the  accident  which  placed  them  in  office.  He  reflected 
further,  and  as  wisely  as  beforp,  that  the  office  of  a  school-master  in 
a  country  school  was  as  little  likely  as  any  he  could  think  of,  to 
furnish  an  exception  to  the  general  rule.  Thus  in  less  than  six 
weeks  from  the  eventful  Saturday  night,  with  a  list  of  school  articles, 
which  he  had  picked  up  in  his  travels,  .he  had  applied  for  and  had 
cibtained,  and  had  opened  the  Gooscpond  school,  and  was  professina, 
to  teach  the  children  spelling,  reading  and  writing,  at  the  rato  of  a 
dollar  a  month  ;  and  arithmetic  and  geography,  at  the  advanced  rate 
of  a  dollar  and  a  half. 

^'Mch  were  some  of  Mr.  Meadows'  antecedent?. 

CHAPTER   III. 

il  was  the  cusloiii  of  the  pupils  of  the  Goofccpond,  as  iu  iau?t  of 
the  other  country  schools  of  those  times,  to  study  aloud.  Whether 
the  teachers  thought  that  the  mind  could  not  act  unless  the  tongue 
wag  agoing,  or  that  the  tongue  agoing  was  the  only  evidence  that 
the  mind  was  acting,  it  never  did  appear.  Such  had  been  the  cus- 
tom, and  Mr.  Meadows  did  not  aspire  to  be  an  innovator.  It  was  his 
rule,  however,  that  there  should  be  perfect  silence  on  his  arrival, 
to  give   him  an  opportunity  of  saying  or  doing   anything  he    might 


14  HUMOROUS    TALIW. 

wish.  This  njoruing  there  did  not  seem  to  be  anything  on  his  miud 
which  required  to  be  lifted  off.  He,  however,  looked  at  Brinkly 
Gliseon  with  some  disappointment  of  expression.  He  had  beaten 
him  unmercifully  the  morning  before,  for  not  having  gotten  there  in 
time,  though  the  boy's  excuse  was  that  he  had  gone  a  rcile  out  of  his 
way  on  an  errand  for  his  mother.  He  looked  at  the  hoy  as  if  he  had 
expected  to  have  some  business  with  him,  which  now  unexpecfc- 
edly  had  to  be  postponed.  He  then  looked  aruund  over  the  school 
and  said  : 

'Go  to  studyin.' 

It  was  plain,  that  in  that  house,  Mr.  Meadows  had  been  in  the  habit 
of  speaking  but  to  command,  and  of  commanding  but  to  be  obeyed. 
Instantaneously  was  heard  then  and  there,  that  unintelligible  tumult* 
the  almost  invariable  incident  of  the  country  schools  of  that  generation. 
There  were  spellers  and  readers ;  geographers  and  aiithmeticians,  all 
engaged  in  their  several  pursuits,  in  the  most  inexplicable  confusion. 
Sometimes  the  spellers  would  have  the  heels  of  the  others,  and 
Bometimes  the  readers.  The  geographers  were  always  third,  and 
the  arithmeticians  always  behind.  It  was  very  plain  to  be  seen  that 
these  last  never  would  catch  the  others.  The  faster  they  added  or 
subtracted,  the  oftener  they  had  to  rub  out  and  commence  anew.  It 
was  always  hut  a  short  time  before  they  found  this  to  be  tlie  case, 
and  so  they  generally  concluded  to  adopt  the  maxim  of  the  philos- 
opher, of  being  slow  in  making  haste.  The  geographers  were  a 
little  faster,  and  a  little  louder.  But  the  spellers  and  readers  had  it, 
I  tell  yon.  Each  speller  and  each  reader  went  through  the  whole 
gamut  of  sounds,  from  low  up  to  high,  and  from  high  down  to  low 
again  ;  sometime.s  by  regular  ascension  and  dcscension,  one  note  at 
a  time,  sounding  what  musicians  call  the  chromatic  intervals  ;  at 
other  times,  going  .up  and  coming  down  upon  the  perfect  fifths 
only.  Oh  !  it  was  so  refreshing  to  see  the  passionate  eagerness 
which  these  urchins  manifested  for  the  acquisition  of  knowledge. 
To  have  sliced  out  about  five  seconds  of  that  studying  and  put  the 
words  together,  would  liave  made  a  senteiico  somewhat  like  the 
lollowing  : 


HUMOKOPS   TALES.  15 

0-d-e-  twice  e^an  c-three  r-ding-i-two  1-v-old.  My  seveu  vill  times 
a-dc-l-cru-i-1  coia-g-f-is  man  o-six-h-nin-four  ni-h-cight  cat  p-c-a-t-r  tea 
c-light  is  ca-Hght  i-light  x  tween-by-tions  fix  dc-a-bisel-cru-fa-cor-a- 
light-bisel-rapt-double-fe-good  ty-light  man  cra-forn-ncr-ci-spress-fix- 
Oh  !  !' 

To  have  lieard  them  for  the  first  time,  one  would  have  been  re- 
minded of  the  Apostles'  preaching  at  Pentacost,  and  it  might  not 
have  been  difficult  to  liave  persuaded  a  stranger  unused  to  such 
things  that  there  were  then  and  there  spoken  the  languages  of  the 
Parthians  and  Medes,  Elamites  and  the  dwellers  in  Mesopotamia, 
and  in  Judea  and  Cappadocia ;  in  Pontus  and  Asia  ;  Phyrgia  and 
Pavophylia  ;  in  Egypt  and  in  the  parts  of  Syria  about  Cyrene  ;  and 
strangers  of  Rome,  Jews  and  Prossylites,  Cretes  and  Arabians — 
Sometimes  these  cloven  tongues  would  subside  a  little,  when  it 
might  be  half  a  dozen  would  stop  to  blow  ;  but  in  a  moment  more, 
the  chorus  would  swell  again  in  a  new  and  livlier  ac  crescendo. — 
When  this  process  had  gone  on  for  half  an  hour,  Mr.  Meadows  lifted 
up  his  voice  and  shouted  'Silence,'  and  aU  was  still. 

Now  were  to  commence  the  recitations,  during  which,  perfect 
silence  was  re(iuired.  For  as  great  a  help  to  study  as  this  jargou 
M  as,  Mr.  Meadows  found  that  it  did  not  contribute  any  aid  to  the 
doing  of  his  work. 

He  now  performed  a  feat  which  he  had  never  performed  before  iu 
exactly  that  manner.  He  put  his  hand  behind  the  lappcl  of  his 
coat  collar  for  a  moment,  and  then,  after  withdrawing  it  and  holding 
it  up,  his  thumb  and  forefinger  joined  together,  he  said  : 

'There  is  too  much  fuss  here.  Pm  going  to  drop  this  pin,  and  I 
shall  whip  every  single  one  of  j'ou  little  boj's  that  don't  hear  it  when 
it  falls.    Thar !' 

1  hcerd  it,  Mr.  Meadows.  I  heerd  it,  Mr.  ]M[eadows,'  exclaimed 
simwltaneously,  five  or  six  little  fellows. 

Come  up  here,  you  little  rascals  ;  you  are  a  liar  !'  said  he  to  each 
one.  'I  never  drapped  it ;  I  never  iiad  nary  one  to  drap.  It  just 
shows  what  liars  you  are.  Set  down  and  wait  a  while,  I'll  ihow  you 
how  to  tell  mc  lies  ' 


16  HVMOROl.S     J  AI.Kii. 

The  little  liar.-  slunk  to  their  scats,  and  the  rocitutions  ooin- 
menced.  Memory  was  the  only  faculty  of  mind  that  underwent  tlie 
gmallest  development  at  this  school.  Whoever  could  say  exactly 
^hat  the  book  said  was  adjudf^ed  to  know  his  lessons.  About  half 
of  the  pupils  on  this  morning'  wore  successlul.  The  other  half  were 
found  to  be  delijKiuont,  Among  those  waa  Asa  Boatright's  class. 
That  calcalating  young  gentleman  knew  his  words  and  felt  safe. 
The  class  had  spelled  around  thret-  or  four  times,  when,  lo'  the 
contingency  which  Allen  Thigpen  had  snggeet^d,  did  come  to  pase. 
Betay  Wiggins  missed  her  word ;  Heueritter  Bangs,  (in  the  lan- 
guage of  Allen,)  hern,  and  Mandy  Grizzle  hem  ;  and  thus  responsi- 
bilities were  suddenly  cust  upon  Asa,  which  he  was  wholly  unpro 
parcd  to  meet,  and  which,  from  the  look  of  mighty  reproach  which 
Lc  gave  each  of  these  young  ladies,  as  she  handed  oyer  to  him  her 
word,  he  evidently  thought  it  the  height  of  injustice,  that  he  should 
have  been  called  upon  to  meet.  Mr.  Meadows,  closing  the  book, 
tossed  it  to  Asa,  who,  catching  it  as  it  was  falling  at  his  feet,  turned, 
and,  hi«3  eyes  swimming  with  tears,  wont  haf^V  lo  hi:*  sof«t.  As  li<« 
passed  Allen  Thigpen,  the  latter  whispered  : 

'What  did  I  tell  you  ?     You  heered  the  piu  drap,  too.' 

Now,  Allen  was  in  no  plight  to  liavc  given  this  taunt  tn  A.su.  lit: 
had  not  given  five  minutes  study  to  his  arithmetic  during  the 
whole  morning.  But  Mr.  Meadows  made  a  rule  (this  one  with  hini- 
Bclf,  though  all  the  pupils  knew  it  better  tlian  any  rule  he  had,)  never 
to  allow  Allen  to  miss  u  lesson  ;  and  as  he  had  kindly  taken  this- 
responsibility  upon  hiniself,  Allen  was  wont  to  give  himself  no  Iron 
tie  about  the  matter. 

Briukly  Glisson  was  the  last  to  recite.  Brinkly  was  no  great 
hand  at  pronunciation.  lie  had  been  reading  but  a  short  time 
when  Mr.  Meadows  advanced  him  into  geography,  with  the  pur- 
pose, as  Brinkly  afterwards  came  to  believe,  of  getting  the  half 
dollar  extra  tuition.  This  morning  he  thought  he  knew  his  lesson  ; 
and  he  did,  as  he  understood  it.  When  called  to  recite,  he  went  uj) 
with  a  countenance  expressive  of  wild  happines;?,  handed  the  book 
to  Mr.  Meadows,  and  putting  his  bands  into  bis  pockets,  awaited  tlie 
questions.     And  now  it  was  an  interesting  sight  to  see  Mr.  Meadow,s 


HITMOROUS   TAI>BS.  17 

amile  as  Brinklv  talked  ot  is-Iands,  and  promonitaries,  thismuscs 
and  heroispheries.  The  lad  misuuder^tood  that  smile,  and  his  heart 
was  glad  for  the  unexpected  reception  of  a  little  complacency  (rem 
the  master.    But  he  was  not  long  in  error. 

'le-iands,  eh  ?  Thismuses,  eh?  Take  this  book  and  see  if  you  can 
fimd  any  is-'auc  s,  and  promonitaries  ;  and  then  bring  them  to  me.  I 
want  to  Biiyi  them  things,  T  do  ;  find  cm  if  you  please/ 

Brinkly  took  the  book,  and  it  would  have  melted  the  heart  of  any 
other  man  tJian  Israel  Meadows  to  have  seen  the  deep  despair  of 
his  heart  as  he  looked  ou  it  and  was  spelling  over  to  himself  tfae 
words  as  he  came  to  them. 

*Mr.  Meadowa/  he  said,  in  pleading  tonee,  I  thought  it  was  is- 
land. Here  it  is,  I-s-1-a-n-d  land  :  ie-land  :'  and  he  looked  mU>  his 
face  beseechingly, 

'Is-land,  eh  !  Is-iantd  !  iNow,  tbismusep,  and  promonitaries  and 
headspher'es — " 

Mr.  Meadows,  I  did  not  know  how  to  pronounce  ihem  words.  I 
asked  you  how  to  pronounce  'em,  and  you  wouldn't  tell  me  ;  ant'  I 
asked  Allen,  and  he  told  me  the  way  I  said  them,' 

*I  believe  that  to  be  a  lie.' 

Brinkly's  face  reddened,  and  his  breathing  was  fast  and  hard.  He 
looked  at  the  master,  as  but  once  or  twice  before  during  the  time  he 
bad  looked  at  him,  but  made  na  auswer.  At  that  moment,  Allea 
leaned  carelessly  on  his  desk,  bifs  elbows  resting  on  it,  and  bis  cbi-j 
on  hiB  hands,  and  said,  dryly  : 

♦Yes  I  did  tell  him  so.' 

Mr.  Meadows  now  reddened  a  little.  After  a. moment's  pause 
however,  he  said : 

'How  often  have  I  got  to  tell  yon  not  to  ask  any  body  but  me  how 
to  pronounce  words  ?    That'll  do,  sir ;  at  down.' 

Brinkly  went  to  his  seat,  and  looking  gloomily  towards  the  doot 
A  minute  or  two,  he  opened  his^  book,  bat  studied  it  no  more. 


18  mTMOROirS  TALES. 

CAAPTER  IV. 

Mr.  Meadows  now  set  about,  wi.:.t  was  the  only  really  pleasaiil 
portion  of  his  dutties,  punishment  of  oflfenders.  The  lawyers  tell 
us  that  of  the  several  portions  of  t  he  law,  the  vindicatory  is  the  most 
important.  This  element  of  the  Goosepond  had  been  cultivated  so 
much,  that  it  had  grown  to  become  almost  the  only  one  which  was 
consulted  at  all.  As  for  the  declaratory,  and  the  directory,  they  \rere 
considered,  when  clearly  understood,  as  impediments  to  a  fair  show- 
ing and  proper  development  of  the  vindicatory,  in  so  much  that 
the  latter  was  often  by  their  means,  disappointed  of  a  victim  for  its 
daily  food.  Mr.  Meadows  used  t),  somtimes  when  his  urchins  would 
not  'miss'  or  violate  any  law,  to  put  the  vindicatory  first,  punish  an 
offender,  and  declare  what  he  had  done  to  be  an  offense,  and  then 
direct  him  that  he  had  better  not  do  so  any  more.  He  ^  seemed  to 
owe  a  grudge  to  society.  Whether  for  its  not  having  given  him  a 
father,  as  it  had  done  to  every  body  else,  or  because  it  had  inter- 
fered in  the  peaceful  occupation  which  ho  had  iaheriteJ  from  his 
grandfather,  as  if  to  avenge  itself  on  him  for  violating  one  of  its 
express  commands,  that  he,  and  such  as  he,  should  inherit  nothing 
from  aynbody,  it  did  appear.  But  he  owed  it,  and  he  delighted  in 
paying  it  off  by  beating  those  children,  each  of  whom  did  have,  or 
had  had  a  father.  So,  on  this  morning,  by  way  of  taking  up  another 
instalment  on  this  immense  debt,  which,  like  most  other  debts, 
seemed  as  if  it  never  would  get  fully  paid,  ho  took  down  his  bundle 
of  hickorie*  from  two  pegs  in  one  of  the  logs  in  the  side  of  the  house, 
on  which  he  had  placed  them  on  his  coming  in,  selected  one  £ve  or 
six  feet  long,  and  walking  to  the  middle  of  the  vacant  place  between 
tke  fire-place  and  the  rows  of  desks,  he  sat  down  iji  his  chair  and 
said  : 

'Them  spoiling  classes  and  reading  classes,  and  them  others  that's 
got  to  be  whipped,  all  but  Sam  Pate  and  Asa  Boatright,  come  to 
the  circus.' 

Five  or  six  boys,  and  as  many  girls,  from  eight  to  thirteen  years 
old  came  up,  and  sitting  down  on  the  front  bench,  which  extended 
all  along  the   length  of  the  two   row»  of  deiks,  and  pulling  off 


their  sho«s  and  stoekings,  the  bojs  rolling  up  their  paats,  and  tke 
girls  lifting  their  skirts  up  to  their  knees,  the  j  made  a  ring  around 
Mr.  Meadows  as  he  sat  in  his  chair,  and  commenced  a  brisk  trot- 
They  had  described  two  or  three  revolutions,  and  Mr.  Meadows  waa 
straightening  hie  hickory,  when  Asa  Boatright  ran  up,  and  crying 
pit«ously,  said  . 

'Please  sir,  Mr.  Meadows  ;  please  air,  Mr.   Meadow>,  let  me  go  in 
the  circus  !' 

Mr.  Meado"ws  rose  up,  and  raised  his  hickory  to  strike  :  but  he 
looked  at  him  a  moment  amusedly,  and  pointed  to  his  Beat.  As"a. 
Trent  back  to  it,  looking  most  forlorn.  Mr.  Meadows,  resuming  hiK. 
scat,  went  at  once  into  the  exciting  part  of  the  exhibition,  bj  tap- 
ping the  l«gs  as  they  trotted  around  him.  This  was  done  at  ficat 
ve!:y  gently,  aud  almost  lovingly.  Bmt  gradually  as  the  sport 
warmed  in  interest,  the  rapidity  andyiolence  of  the  blows  increased. 
The  children  began  to  cry  out,  and  then  Mr.  Meadows  struck  the 
harder,  for  it  was  a  rule — oh,  he  was  a  mighty  man  for  rules,  this 
Mr.  Meadows — that  whoever  cried  the  loudest  should  be  hit  tbe 
hardest.  He  kept  up  this  interesting  and  exciting  amusement,  un- 
til he  had  given  them  about  twenty  five  lashes  apiece,  the  most  of 
them  being  easily  counted  by  the  stripes.  He  tken  ceased.  They 
stopped  instantly,  walked  around  kim  once,  then  seating  themselrei 
again  on  the  bench,  and  resmming  their  shoes  and  stockings,  they 
went  to  their  seats.  One  girl,  thirteen  years  old,  had  begged  hiai 
to  let  hei  keep  on  her  stockings  ;  but  Mr.  Meadows  was  too  Ilrm  a 
diBciplinarian  toallow  it.  When  she  reUrnad  to  the  front  beneh, 
she  put  on  her  shoes,  ami  taking  her  stockings  up,  and  pitting  theui 
under  her  apron,  ehe  went  to  her  seat  and  sobbed  as  if  her  heart  w/s 
brakes. 

Allen  Thigpou  looked  at  her  a  noment,  anil  then  he  turned  his 
ci;e  slowlj  around  and  looked  at  Brinkly  Glistoi,  The  latter  iid 
»et  notice  kim.  Hesatwitk  his  hands  in  his  pocketi,  ^'aud  his  lips 
«iempressed.  Alle»  kiew  the  steB{gl«  that  was  jeing  on,  asd  he 
/ioBged  to  set  hew  it  wewlci  end  Mr.  Mesdewt  rested  three 
miiiles- 


20  HUMOROUi*     TALM. , 

It  has  no  doubt  occurred  to  thoec  who  may  Lave  been  reading 
this  true  story,  that  it  was  a  strange  tiling  in  ks,^  Boatright,  who  so 
well  knew  Mr.  Meadowsj  ways,  thai  he  should  have  expressed  so 
decisive  a  wish  to  take  part  in  this  last  described  exhibition,  an 
exhibition  which,  however  entertaining  to  Mr.  Mcado>vs,as  it  doubt- 
less was,  and  might  be  to  many  other  persons,  placing  them  in  the 
attitudes  of  spectators  purely,  was  not,  to  the  highest  degree,  agree- 
able to  one  in  the  attitude  which  Master  Asa  must  have  known  he 
would  have  been  made.to  assume,  had  Mr.  Moadows  vouchsafed  to 
have  yielded  to  his  request.  But  Asa  was  not  a  boy  who  was 
either  a  fool  nor  one  who  liad  no  care  ^"•-  ^i*^  i.liy^i.v'il  well-being. 
He  knew  what  he  was  about. 

'Sam  Pate  and  Asa  Boatright,'  said   Mr.  Meadows,  alter  his  rest 
come  out  here  and  go  to  horsin. 

The  two  lads  came  out.  Master  Paie  gently  mcliuoil  luiu-scii  iur- 
ward.  and  Masier  Boatright  got  upon  hi.s  back,  and  locked  his  arms 
around  his  neck.  The  former  gathering  the  lattcr's  legs  in  his  arms, 
and  drawing  as  tightly  as  possible  his  pants  across  his  middle, 
commenced  galloping  as  fast  as  he*  could  around  the  area  before  the 
fire-place.  Mr.  Meadows  having  taken  a  fresh  hickory,  commenced 
appplying  it  with  great  force  and.  precisioft  to  that  part  of  Master 
Boatright's  little  body,  which,  in  his  present  attHude,  was  the 
most  exposed.  Every  application  of  this  kind  cpused  that  young 
gentleman  to  scream  to  the  utmost  of  the  strength  of  his  voice,  and 
even  to  kick,  which,  Master  Pate  being  for  the  occasion  a  horse,  was 
to  understand  as  the  expression  of  a  wish  on  the  part  of  his  rider,  that 
he  should  get  on  faster,  and  to  frisk  and  to  prance,  and  otherwise  to 
inxitate  a  horse  as  far  as  he  could  in  the  circumstances.  Now,  these 
circumstances  being,  that  as  soon  as  Master  Boatriffht  should  have 
ridden  him  abomt  long  enough,  to  have  become  incapacitated  from 
riding  a  real  hors«  with  even  tho  smallest  degree  of  comfort,  they 
were  to  reverse  poBitiocs,  Master  Boatright  becoming  horso^nd  him- 
self rider,  they  were  hardly  sulEcient  to  make  him  entirely  forget 
his  identity  in  the  personation  of  that  quadruped.  He  did  his  best 
though  in  the  Mrcumstancefi,    s«ch    a«  they    wore,    and    not  only 


MUMOROU*    TALp«.  21 

pranced,  but  «ven  neighed  several  times.  When  Asa  was  put  into 
the  condition  hinted  at  above,  he  was  allowed  to  dismount.  Sam 
having  mounted  on  his  back,  it  was  trul  j  stirring  to  the  feelings  to 
see  the  latter  kick  and  tlie  former  prance.  This  was  always  the 
best  part  of  the  show.  A  rule  of  this  exercise  was,  that  when  the 
rider  should  dismount  and  become  the  Jiorse,  he  was  to  act  well  his 
part  j  or  be  made  to  resume  the  part  of  rider,  a  prospect  not  at  all 
agreeable,  each  one  decidedly  preferring  the  part  of  the  horse.  Sana 
was  about  three  years  older  and  twelve  or  fifteen  pounds  heavier 
than  Asa.  Now,  while  Asa  had  every  ^stimulus  which  as  seusib  le  a 
horse  as  he  was  could  have,  to  do  his  best,  jet  he  was  so  sore,  and 
Sam  was  so  heavy,  that  he  met  with  much  difficulty.  He  pranced 
about  furiously,  but  fell  several  times.  Finding  that  he  CiMild  do 
no  great  things  at  prancing,  he  attempted  to  make  up  for  ibis  .,  -fi- 
ciency  by  neighing.  When  Sam  cried  out  and  kicked,  Asa  Heighcd. 
He  would  stumble  against  a  desk  and  ,iio-igh  ;  he  would  run  head- 
long against  the  wall  and  neigh  ;  he  would  lift  up  one  foot  and 
neigh  ;  he  would  put  it  down,  take  up  the  other  and  neigh  ;  and 
then  when  he  would  attempt  to  lift  up  both  feet  at  once,  he  would  fall 
down  and  neigh.  Never  before  had  Asa  so  well  acted  his  part  in 
the  horsin'  at  the  Goosepond.  Never  before  had  horse,  with  such 
odds  on  his  back,  neighed  so  lustily.  Sam  screamed  and  kicked' 
Asa  pranced  and  neiglied,  until  at  last,  stumbling  violently  against 
the  bench,  Sam  let  go  his  hold  upon  his  neck,  for  fear  of  breaking 
his  own,  and  fell  sprawling  on  his  belly  under  a  desk.  Mr.  Meadows 
burst  into  a  paroxysm  of  laughter.  His  soul  was  satisfied.  He  gave 
Hp  the  pursuit  and  ordered  them  to  their  seats.  They  went  to  them 
and  sat  down  upon  them  with  such  a  graduated  declension  of  bodjr 
as  one  would  knowingly  sit  withal  into  a  basket  of  eggs. 

CHAPTER  y. 

After  the  cIobb  of  the  last  performance  which  Mr.  Jdfeadows  face- 
Uously  called  'horsin,'  he  rested  about  ten  minutes.  The  most  in- 
teresting, the  meet  delightful,  the  most  iu?piriting  exercise  was  yet 
to  fallow.     This  was  the  puniahmeot  of  Briiikly   GUgson.     It  was 


2d  ivu^Roii  'iA.i.k:*. 

strange  tv   t^f   how  he  delighiccl  in  it.     H<*  was  neyer  f<'>  ajrreeakle 
at  playtime,  an»l  in  the  afternoon,  as  Trhen  ho  had  beaten  Brink Ij  in 
ihp  morning'.     IT  he  rcfitcd  his  lesson,  and   thci'^    wa«  no  other  pre- 
text to  heat  him,  Mr.  Meadoww  tt;is  sadder  and  more  peevish  than  usual 
dining  the  remaindck  of  the  daj,  and  looked  and  acted  a«  a  man  who 
Icit  tluit  he  wa?  deeplj  injured.     Now   Brinklv    wa?  one  of  the  best, 
and  bravest,  and  honestcst  boys  in  the  world.     lie  was  the  onlj  sen 
of  a  widow,  who  had,  M  jrrcat  sacrifice,  sent    him  to  Mr.    Meadows' 
school.     He  liati  pitched  and  tended  the  crop  of  a  few  acres  arounf^ 
her  house,   and   she  had  secured  the  promise  of  a  neighbor  to  he'p 
her  to  gathci  it  when  ripe,  and  thus  afforded  her  son  an  opportunity 
of  getting,  as  she  said,  a  little   schoolinji:.     He  was  the  apple  of  her 
eye — the  idol  of  her  heart.    H«  was  to  her  as  v(f:  always  think  of 
him  of  whom  it  is  said,  'He  is  the  only  son  of  his  mother,  and  she  ia 
a  widoM'.'     The  sacrifice  she  had  to  make,  she  made  cheerfully  ;  for 
si.c  loved  him  as  she  loved  her  own  soul.     And  Hrinkly  had  ever  re. 
p.  id  that  fond  mothers  care,  by  the  most  constant   love   and   duty 
lie  soon    learned    to  read  tolerably  at  the  school,  and  was  advanced 
into  geography  in  a  couple  of  months.     IIow  proud  the  widow  was 
when  she  bought  the  new  geography  and  atlas,  with  the  proceeds  n( 
the  sale   of  four  pairs  of  socks,  which  (sweet  labor  of  love  !)  she  had 
knit  with  her  own  hands.     What  a  world  of  knowledge,  she  thought, 
there   must   be  in  a  book   with  live  times  as  many  pages  as  a  spell- 
ing book,  and  in  those  great  red,  blue,   and  pink  i)ietur?s,  coveriag 
a  whole  |»age  a  foot  square,  and  all  this   knowledge   to  become   tho 
property  .  f  Brinkly  !     But  Brinkly  soon  found  that  geography  w*» 
iiliove  his  present  capacity,  and  so  told    Mr.  Meadows.     Thai   gen- 
tleman received  the  communication   with   displeasure ;   said  that 
what  was  the  maltw  with  him  wag  laziness,  and  that  Ia/.iue.?s,  of  all 
ihe  «|ualiti»K  whieh  a  boy  had,  was  the  (me  which  he  knew  best  what 
do  with.     He  ihen  took  to  beating  him.     Brinkly,   afker  the  first 
eating,  whiiJi  was  a  light  one,  went  home  and  told  his  mother  of  it, 
and    intimated  hi»   intention    not  to  tak«  another.     The  widow  was 

sorely  diBtresicd,  and  knew  not  what  to  do.  On  tho  one  hand  was 
he  r  grief  to  know  her  Mn  was  unjustly  beatcD,  and  his  spirit  eowed  ;. 
•r  she  kiitw  that  Lt  ntviiitd  all  the  time  he  had,  and  thotgh  BBcdm- 


BliMOROUi    TALKS.  ZA 

cated  lierseir,  she  was  uot  like  many  other  pureiits  of  her  d»y,  wlio 
thought  that  the  best  means  to  tlevvilope  thy  mind,  was  to  beat  the 
body.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  would  be  thcdisuppoiiitmcttt  of  hi* 
g'ettittg-  an  education  if  he  sliould  leave  the  .srliool,  there  being  then 
no  other  ia  the  neighborhood.  This,  thought  the  poor  woman,  was 
the  worse  liorn  of  the  dilemma  .:  aud  so  she  wept,  and  bogged  him, 
as  he  loved  her,  to  submit  to  Mr.  Meadowy.  He  should  have  the 
mwe  time  for  study.  She  would  chop  the  wood  and  feed  the  stock- 
He  should  have  all  the  time  at  home  to  himself.  He  could  get  it, 
she  knew  he  could.     It  would  come  to  him  after  awhile. 

Brinklj  yielded  ;  but  how  many  a  hard  struggle  he  made  to  con- 
ti»ue  that  submission,  no  one  knew  but  ho, — not  even  his  mother, 
for  he  concealed  from  her,  as  much  as  he  could,  the  treatment  which 
he  had  received  and  the  suffering  which  he  had  endured. 
Mr.  Meadows  could  see  this  struggle  sometimes.  He  knew 
that  the  boy  was  not  afraid  of  him.  He  saw  it  in  his  ey^ 
every  time  he  beat  him,  and  it  was  this  which  afforded  him  such  a 
patiafaction  to  beat  him.  He  wished  to  subdue  him,  and  he  had  not 
eucceeded.  Briukly  would  never  beg  nor  weep.  Mr.  Meadows 
often  thought  he  was  on  the  point  of  resisting  him  ;  but  he  knew 
the  reason  why  he  did  not,  and  while  he  hated  him  for  it,  he  trusted 
that  it  would  last.  Yet,  he  often  doubted  whether  it  would  or  not,  and 
thaa  the  matter  became  so  intensely  exciting,  that  lie  eoatinually 
BO«ght  for  opportunities  of  bringing  itup^.  He  lo?ed  to  tempt  him. 
He  had  no  doubt  but  that  he  could  easily  manage  him  in  an  even 
combat  ;  but  he  did  not  wish  it  to  come  to  that.  He  only  gloried  in 
goading  him  almost  to  resistance,  and  then  seeing  him  yield. 

Hare,  we  not  all  seen  liovs^  tlic  showman  a(ia[)tft  liiia.self  to 
the  diflerent  animals  of  the  menagerie  How  ({uickly  and 
sliaqjlv  he  speaks  t^  the  lesser  animals  who  junjp  ovit  his 
wand  and  back,  and  over  and  back  again,  and  then  (:rou(;h  in 
sibniisijioa  a&  he  passe?  by.  But  when  lie  goC'^i  to  the  lion, 
^ou  can  scarcely  hear  liis  low  tones,  as  he  (ommands  hin>  to 
riie  and  perform  his  part,  and  is  not  certain  wlicther  the  kini: 
of  the  beasts  will  do  as  lie  is  bidden  or  not.  Doubts  like  tho.-i- 
were  in  tlie  mind  of  Mr.  Meadow.s,  when  he  was  about  to  set 
upon  Brinkly  Glisson  :  but  tlie  greatt-r  tlnn^c  doiibts,  the  im-'i-c^ 
he  »HJoyed  the  trial.     .-Xftrr  a  *;]jort  rest   iVon/*  the   fatigu*-.'*  of 


24  BIMOROO    TALKS. 

the  last  exercise,  during  which  he  curiously  and  seriously  eyed 
the  lad,  he  rotc  from  his  seat,  paced  slowly  across  the  room 
once  or  twice,  and  takino-  a  hickory  switch,  the  longest  of  all 
he  had,  ho  stopj^cd  in  the  itiiddle  of  the  floor,  and  in  a  low 
quiet  tone,  said : 

'Brinkly  Glisson,  come.' 

Allen  had  been  eyeing  Brinkly  all  the  time,  'since  the  close 
of  the  circus.  He  saw  the  conflict  which  was  going  on  in  his 
soul,  and  when  Mr.  Meadows  had  burst  into  theparoxysm  of 
lauglitcr,  at  the  imtoward  ending  of  the  horsin,  he  thought  he 
^^aw  that  the  conflict  was  ended. 

Slowly  and  calmly  Brinkly  rose  from  his  seat,  and  walked 
up  and  stood  before  Mr.  Meadows. 

'Why,  hi!'  thought  Allen. 

'Ofl'  with  your  coat,  sir,' — low  and  gentle,  and  with  a  co*m- 
tenai'.cc  almost  smiling.  Brinkly  stood  motionless.  But  he 
had  done  so  once  or  twice  before,  in  similar  circumstafices, 
and  at  length  yielded.  'OS' with"  it,  sir,' — louder  and  not  io 
gentle.  No  motion  on  Brinkly's  part,  not  even  in  his  eye«, 
which  looked  steadily  into  the  master's,  with  a  meaning  whieli 
he  nearly  but  not  quite  understood. 

'Aint  you  going  to  pull  ofl"  that  coat,  sir?' 

'What  for?' asked  Brinkly. 

•What  for,  sir  V 

•Yes,  sir;  what  for^' 

•Because  I  am  going  to  give  you  this  hickory,  you  impudent 
iscoundi-cl ;  and  if  you  don't  pull  it  oflT  this  minute,  I'll  girc 
you  sich  a  beatin'  as'll  «nake  yon  feel  like  you  never  was 
whipped  before  since  you  was  born.  Aint  you  going  to  pull 
it  off,  sir?' 

'No,  sir.' 

Allen  wriggled  on  his  seat,  and  his  face  shone  as  the  fall 
moon.  Mr.  Meadows  retreated  a  step,  and  holding  his  fwitcli 
two  feet  from  the  larger  end,  .he  raised  that  end  to  strike. 

"Sto])  one  minute,  if  you  please."' 

Mr.  McadoM's  lowered  his  arm,  and  his  face  smiled  it  tri- 
umph. .  This  Avas  the  first  time  Brinkly  had  ever  begged.  Pic 
chuckled.     Allen  looked  disappointed. 

'Stop,  eh?  lyi!  Tliis  end  looks  heavy,  does  it  ^  Well,l 
wouUrnt  be  surprised  if  it  war'nt  sorter  heavy.  Will  you  pull 
<  >fl'  your  coat  now,  sir  V 


MITMOROUS    TALES.  25 

'Mr.  Meadows,  I  asked  you  to  stop,  because  I  wanted  to  say 
a  few  words  to  you.  You  have  beat  me  and  beat  mc,  worse 
than  you.  ouglit  to  beat  a  dog,'  (Allen's  face  getting  right 
again ;)  and'God  in  heaven  knows  that,  in  the  time  that'l  have 
come  to  school  to  you,  I  have  tried  as  hard  as  a  boy  ever  did, 
to  please  you  and  get  my  lessons.  I  can't  understand  that 
geography,  and  I  aint  been  reading  long  enough  to  understand 
it.  I  have  asked  you  to  let  me  quit.  Mother  has  asked  you. 
You  would'nt  do  it ;  but  beat  me,  and  beat  mc,  and  beat  me, 
(there'  is  no  telling  whether  Allen  wants  to  laugh  or  to  cry), 
and  now,  the  more  I  study  it,  the  more  I  don't  understand  it. 
I  would  have  quit  school  long  ago,  but  mother  was  so  anxious 
for  me  to  learn,  and  made  me  come.  And  now,  I  have  took 
oft'  my  coat  to  you  tlie  last  time.'  (Ah  !  now  there  is  a  great 
tear  in  Allen's  eye,'  'Listen  to  me,'  (as  the  teacher's  hand 
makes  a  slight  motion,)  'don't  strike  me.  I  know  I'm  not 
learning  anything,  and  yom*  beating  aint  going  ■  to  make  me 
learn  any  faster.  If  you  are  determined  to  keep  me  in  this 
geography,  and  to  beat  me,  just  say  so,  and  I'll  take>.my  hat 
and  books  and  go  home.  I'd  like  to  not  come  to-day,  but  I 
thought  I  knew  my  lesson.  Now,  I  say  again,  don't,  for  God's 
sake,  don't  strike  rac.'  And  he  raised  up  both  his  hands,  pale 
and  trembling. 

It  would  be  impossible  to  describe  the  surprise  and  rage  ex- 
pressed on  the  face  of  Mr.  Meadows  during  the  delivery,  and 
at  the  close  of  this  little  harangue.  lie  loolcc  1  at  the  boy  a 
moment.  His  countenance  expressed  the  deepest  sadness ; 
but  there  was  nothing  in  it  liko  <^ '/:;iu<'C  or  threatening.  It 
iwas  simply  sad  and  beseec'.l.ij^.  The  master  raised  his  switch 
and  struck  with  all  his  might  across  his  shoulders. 

'My  God !'  cried  the  boy  ;  but  in  an  instant  sadness  and  be- 
seeching passed  from  his  face.  The  long  pent  up  resentment  of 
liis  soul  gushed  forth,  and  tlie  fury  of  a  demon  glared  from  his 
eyes.  He  wa«  preparing  to  spring  upon  Mr.  Meadows,  when 
the  latter,  by  a  sudden  rush,  caught  him  and  thrust  him  back- 
ward over  the  front  bench.  Tliey  bothtumblcd  on  the  floor, 
between  the  rows  of  desks,  Mr.  Meadows  uppermost. 

'It's  come,'  said  Allen,  quietly,  as  he  rose  imv'  looked  down 
upon  the  combatants. 

Mr.  Meadows  attempt^ed  to  disengage  hiiMr.ii  and  rise  ;  but 
Brinkly  would  rise  with  him.    After  several   uttempts  at  this, 


2<i  BIMOROIft   TAIJil. 

Brinkly   niaiia2:Pii  to  get  upon  one  knee,  and  bj-  a  violent  jerk, 
to  bt-ing    Mr.    Meadows    down     upon     tlic    floor,    where 
they    were,    in     the    phrascolojjy    of    the    wrestling    ring, 
crop's  and  pile.     Mr.  Meadows  slioutcd   to  two  or  three  of  the 
hojs  to  bold  Brinkly  until  he  could   rise.     Tliey  rose  to  obcj, 
jbut  Allen,   without  saying   a  Avord,  put  out  his  hand  before 
then),  and  motioning  them  to  their  scats,  they   resumed   them. 
And  now   the  contest  set  in  for  good.     Mr.  Meadows  strug- 
gling to  recover  In's  advantage,  and  Brinkly  to  improve  what 
he  had  gained.     Tlie  former's  right  arm  was  thrown  across  the 
latter's  neck,  his  right  hand  wound   in   and  pulling   violently 
his  hair,  while  his  left  hand  pressed  against  his  breast.     Brink- 
ly**?  left   leg   was   across   Mr.  Meadows'  middle,  and  with  his 
right  against  a  stationary  desk,  his  right  arm   bent   and   lying 
under   him   like  a  lizzard's,  and  his  left  in  Mr.  Meadows'  shirt 
collar,  he  struggled  to  get  uppermost.     When  Mr.   Meadows' 
upper   })ai-ts  were  rising,   and   about   to   rule  the  ascendant, 
Brinkly \s  lower  parts  would  swell  like  a  sea  wave.     Between 
these   two   the  strife  was  even ;  and   it  was  plain  the  matter 
would  have  to  be  settled  by  Mr.  Meadows'   lower  parts  and 
Brinkly's  upper  parts.     Yet,  when  Brinkly  would  attempt  to 
raise  his  he^d,  that  hand  wound   in  his  hair  would  instantly 
bring   it  back  to   the  floor.     When  Mr.  Meadows  would  at- 
tempt to  disengage  himself  from   underneath  Brinkly's  leg, 
that  member,  assisted  by  its  brother  from  the  desk,  against 
which  it  was  pressed,  hela^t  like  the  boa  holds   the  bullock. 
Oh,  Mr.  Meadows !  Mr.  Meadows !     You  don't  know  the  boy 
that  grappk^s   witli   you.     You   blow,   Mr.  Meadows!     See! 
Blinkly  bh)ws'not  half  so  hard.     Remember,    you  walk  a  mile 
to  and  from   tlie  school,  and  Brinkly  seven,  often  running  the 
first  half.     Beside^;,  there  is  something  in  Brinkly's  soiil  which 
will  not   let  him   tire.     The  remembrance  of  long  continued 
wrongs,  which  cannot  longer  bo  borne;  the   long  subdued  but 
now  inextinguishable  desire  of  revenge ;  every  hostile  feeling 
but  fear — all  these  are  now  dominant  m  that  simple  but  lieroic 
heart,  and  if  you  hope  to  conquer,  you  must  fight  as  you  uerer 
have  fought  before,  and  never  may  have  to  fignt  again. 

Your  right  baud  pulls  less  Angorously  at  the  hair  of  Brink- 
ly's ascending  head,  liook  there!  Brinkly's  leg  has  moved 
&n  inch  further  across  you  !  Wring  and  tm-st,  Mr.  Meadows, 
for  right  under  tliat  leg,  if  any  where  for  you,  is  now  the  post 
of  honor.     Can't  vou    draw   ou't   vour  left  leg,  and  plant   it 


mVMOKOUS     liJ.B«.  -J  7 

against  the  desk  behind  you,  as  Brinklj  does  with  hit>  right. 
Alas!  no,  Brinkly  has  now  made  a  hook  of  his  left,  and  h\^ 
Keel  is  pressing  close  in  the  cavity  behind  your  knee.  Ah  ! 
that  was  an  imlucky  move  for  you  then,  Mr.  Meadows,  when 
you  let  Brinkly 's  hair  go,  and  thrust  both  of  youv  hands  at  his 
eyes.  You  must  have  done  that  in  a  passion.  But  you  are 
raking  him  some  now,  tliat  is  certain.  But  see  there,  now  ! 
he  has  released  his  grasp  at  your  shirt  collar,  and  thrown  his 
left  arm  over  you.     Good  morning  to  you  now,  Mr.  Meadows! 

In  the  instant  that  Mr.  Meadows  had  released  his  hold  upon 
Ids  hail",  Brinkly,  though  he  was  being  gouged  terribly,  re- 
leased his  hold  upon  his  collar,  tlirew  his  arm  over  his  neck, 
and  pushing  with  all  his  might  witli  his  right  leg  against  the 
desk,  and  making  d  corresponding  pull  with  his  lett,  he  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  fully  upon  him  ;  then,  springing  up  quick  as 
lightning,  as  Mr.  Meadows,  panting,  liis  eyes  gleaming  with 
the  fury  of  an  enraged  tigress,  was  attempting  to  rise,  he  dealt 
him  a  blow  in  the  iacc  with  his  fist,  which  sent  him  back  bleed- 
iag  li'ke  a  butchered  beast.  Once  more  the  master  attempted 
to  rise,  and  those  who  saw  it  will  never  forget  that  piteous 
spectacle  of  rage,  and  shame,  and  pain,  and  fear.  Once  more 
Brinkly  struck  him  back.  How  that  brave  boy's  face  shone 
•ut  with  those  gaudia  certaminisy  which  the  brave  always  feel 
when  in  the  midst  of  an  inevitable  and  righteous  combat ! 
Springing  upon  his  adversary  again  and  seizing  his  arms  and 
pinioning  tneni  under  his  knees,  he  wound  his  hands  in  liis 
iSliaggy  hair,  and  raising  his  head,  thrust  it  down  several  timet 
with  all  his  might  against  the  floor. 

'Spare  me!  for  God's  sake,  spare  me !'  cried  Mr.  Meadows, 
in  tones  never  before  heard  from  him  in  that  house.* 

Brinkly  stopped.  'Spare  you,'  he  said,  now  panting  him- 
self. 'Yes  !^  you  who  never  spared  anything  that  you  could 
hurt !  Poor  cruel  coward  !  You  loveti  to  beat  other  people, 
and  gloried  in  seeing  them  suffering,  and  when  they  begged 
Tou  to  spare  them,  you  laughed — you  did.  And  now,  you  arc 
beat  yourself  and  whipped,  you  beg  like  a  dog.  Yes,  and  I 
trill  spare  you,'  he  continued,  rising  from  him.  'It  would  be  a, 
pity  to  beat  any  such  a  poor  cowardly  human  as  you  ai'c  any 
longer.  Now  go !  and  make  them  poor  things  there  go  to 
horsin  again,  and  cut  'em  in  two  again ;  and  then  git  in  the 
•ircus  ring,  imd   make    them  others,  girLs  and  all — yes,   girls 


28  MFMOROirS    TALES. 

and  all — hold  up  their  clothes  and  trot  around  you,  and  when 
they  cry  like  you,  and  beg  you  to  spare  'em,  do  you  laugh 
again.' 

He  rose  and  turned  away  from  him.  Gathering  up  liis 
liooks  he  went  to  the  peg  whereon  his  hat  was  hanging,  and 
was  in  the  act  of  taking  it  down,  when  a  sudden  revulsion  of 
feeling  came  over  him,  and  he  sat  down  and  wept. 

Oh !  the  feelings  in  that  poor  boy's  breast !  The  recollection 
of  the  crnel  wrongs  which  he  had  suffered ;  of  the  motives  so 
full  of  pious  duty,,  which  had  made  him  endure  them,  the 
thought  ot  how  mistaken  had  been  the  wish  of  his  mother  that 
he  should  endure  them ;  and  then  of  how  terribly  they  had 
been  avenged.  These  all  meeting  at  once  in  his  gentle  bxit  un- 
taught spirit  overcame  it,  and  broke  it  into  weeping. 

Meanwhile  other  things  were  going  on.  Mr.  Meadows,  hag- 
gardi,  bruized,  bleeding,  covered  with  dirt,  slank  off  towards 
the  lire-place,  sat  down  in  his  chair,  and  buried  his  face  in  hi$ 
hands.  The  pupils  had  been  in  the  highest  states  of  alternate 
alarm  and  astonishment.  They  were  now  all  standing  about 
their  seats,  looking  alternately  at  Blinkly  and  Mr.  Meadows,  but 

at  the  latter  mostly.  Their  countenance  plainly  indicated  that 
this  was  a  sight  which,  in  their  minds,  had  never  before  beea 
vouchsafed  to  mortal  vision.  A  schoolmaster  whipped  !  beat ! 
choked !  his  head  bnmbed !  and  that  by  one  of  his  pupila. 
And  that  schoolmaster  Mr.  Meadows  !  Mr.  Meadows,  who, 
ten  minutes  before,  had  been  in  the  exercise  of  sovereign  and 
despotic  authority.  And  then  to  hear  him  beg !  A  school- 
master ! — Mr.  Meadows ! — to  hear  him  actually  beg  Brinkly 
to  spare  him !  Tliese  poor  children  actually  began  to  feel  not 
only  pity,  but  some  resentment  at  what  had  been  done.  They 
were  terrified,  and  to  some  extent  miserable  at  the  sight  of  so 
much  ])ower,  so  much  authority,  so  much  royalty  dishonored 
and  laid  low.  Brinkly  seemed  to  them  to  have  transformed. 
He  vras  a  murderer  !  a  regicitU  !  !  Talk  of  the  divine  right  of 
kings.  There  was  never  more  reverence  felt  for  it  than  the 
children  in  country  schools  felt  for  the  kingly  dignity  of  the 
schoolmaster  of  forty  years  agone. 


RSMOROirS    T^LES.  29 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Allen  Thigpen  was  the  only  one  of  the  pupils  who  did  not  entiiely  looc  his 
wits  while  the  events  of  the  last  few  minutes  were  transpiring.  While  the 
contest  was  even  between  the  combatants,  he  stood  i^azing  down  upon  them 
with  the  most  intetise  interest.  His  body  was  bent  down  slightly,  and  his  arm? 
were  extended  in  a  semi  circle,  as  if  to  exclude  the  rest  of  the  world  from  a  scene 
which  he  considered  all  his  own.  When  Mr.  Meadows  called  for  quarters, 
Allen  folded  his  arms  across  his  breast,  and  to  a  tune,  which  was  meant  for 
•Auld  Lang  Syne,'  and  which  sounded  indeed  more  like  that  than  any  other,  he 
sang  as  he  turned  off,  about  half  of  the  line  beginning  with 

'Jerusalem,  my  happy  home,' 
When  Mr.  Meadows  bad  taken  his  .^at,  he  looked  at  him  for  a  moment  or  two 
as  if  hesitating  what  to  do.    He  then  walked  slowly  to  him  and  delivered  the 
following  oration  : 

'It's  come  to  it  at  last,  jest  as  I  saiii  I  seen  it  from  the  fast ;  you  ought  t» 
a  seen  it  yourself,  but  you  would'nt  ur  you  could'nt,  and  I  don't  know  which, 
and  it  makes  no  odds  which,  you  did'nt.  1  did,  and  now  its  come,  and  sick  a 
beatin,  Jerusalem  !  But  don't  you  be  too  much  took  back  by  it.  You  war'at 
goin  to  keep  school  here  no  longera  to-day,  nohow"  Now,  I  had  laid  off  in  my 
mind  to  have  gin  you  a  duckin  this  very  day  ;  and  I'll  tell  you  for  why.  If  ot  as 
I've  got  anything  particklar  agin  you,  myself ;  you  have  not  said  one  word  o»t 
«f  the  way  to  m«  this  whole  term.  But,  in  the  fust  place,  its  not  my  opinio«> 
nor  haint  been  for  sometime,  that  yon  are  fitten  too  be  a  schoolma'^ter,  Thar's 
them  sums  in  intrust — intrust  is  the  very  thing  and  the  onliest  thing  I  wanted 
to  learn — I  say,  thar's  them  sums  in  intrust,  which  I  can't  work  and  Which  yoa 
can't  show  me  how  to  work,  or  haint  yit,  though  I've  been  cypherin  in  it  now 
two  months.  And  thar's  Mely  Jones,  that's  in  the  same,  and  she  haint  learnt 
'em  neither,  and  dinged  if  I  bclisve  all  the  fault 's  in  me  and  her,  and  in  couras  it 
can't  be  in  the  book.  But  that  aint  the  main  thing  ;  its  your  imposin  disposi" 
tion.  If  this  here  school-house.'  he  continued,  looking  around,  'if  this  h«re 
school-honse  haint  seen  more  unmerciful  beatin  than  any  other  sehool-houae  iu 
this  country,  then,  I  say  its  a  pity  that  thar's  any  sich  a  thing  as  educatioa- 
And  if  the  way  things  has  been  oar'd  on 'in  this  here  school-house,  sense  yoa 
you've  been  in  it  is  the  onliest  way  of  getting  of  a  education,  then  I  say  agaia, 
its  a  pity  thar's  sich  a  thing.  It  aint  worlli  while  for  me  to  name  over  all  the  ways 
yoo'vehad  of  tormenlin  o'  these  children.  You  know  'em  ;  I  know  'era  :  every- 
body about  this  here  school-honsc  knows  'em.  Now,  as  I  said  before,  I  had  laid  off 
to  a  gin  you  a  dnekin  this  very  day,  and  this  morning  I  was  going  to  let 
Brinckly  into    it,  t«ll  I  found    that    the  time    I  seen  was    a  comin    ia  him 


3#  ■IMOJ(0l«    TALlLt. 

^M  done  come  ;  and  J  J^nowed  he  wonlU'ul  jine  in  dockia  you  ou  a<,'i;o«ut  of 
Lis  mother.  >«"»w  I've  been  thiukiug  o'  this  for  laore'n  two  week?,  beka?e— 
new  listen  to  we:  didui  you  say  you  was  from  Sauth  Carolina?' 

Tauaing  for,  but  not  recuiving  au  answer,  he  coitinued  : 

'Yes,  that's  what  you  eaid.  Well,  now  I've  hearn  a  mau— a  travelia  luaj— 
wko  staid  all  night  at  our  house  on  his  way  to  Fluriday,  gay  he  knowed  you. 
Toa  aint  front  South  Callina ;  I  wi^fa  you  was,  but  you  aint  ;  you're  from 
Georgy,  and  1  'm  ashamed  to  uay  it.  lie  ast  me,  geeio  me  a  stadyio,  who  1 
went  to  school  to,  and  when  1  told  him,  (Mr.  .Veadowa  appearing  to  be  liate*- 
ing)  Meadows,' says  he,  'what  Meadows?'  'Iserl'  says  I.  'Iseri  Meadows  a 
sckool-master,  says  he  V  and  ke  laughed,  be  did  ;  he  laughed  fit  to  kill  hisself. 
Well,  he  told  me  whar  you  was  raised,  and  u-ho  you  uvs.  Bat  you  need'at  be 
too  bad  skeered.  I  aint  told  it  to  the  fust  human,  and  I  aiot  going  to  teli  you 
leave.  Now,  I  had  laid  off,  as  1  told  you,  to  gin  you  a  duckin,  b*t  1  had'nt 
the  heart  to  de  it,  and  you  id  the  fix  you  are  now  at  the  present.  Nuff  sed,  as 
seed  iu  a  bar-room  in  Augusty  ou  a  piece  of  pasteboard,  under  the  words  *No 
credit,'  wJieu  1  was  thar.  Wonder  if  thar's  going  to  be  much  more  schooliu 
here  V' 

Saying  which,  Alien  puckered  up  his  mouth  as  if  for  a  whistle,  and  stalked 
back  to  his  seat. 

Mr.  Meadows,  durisg  the  last  few  sentences  of  this  harangue,  iiad  exkibited 
evidadce  of  a  new  emotion.  When  Allea  told  him  what  the  traveler  had  said 
he  looked  up  ^rith  a  countenance  full  of  terror,  and  on  Allen  assuring  him  that 
ke  had  not  meutioued  it,  he  had  agaiu  buried  his  face  in  his  hands.  Whea 
Allen  went  back  to  hia  sent,  he  rose  and  beckoniujr  to  him  imploringly,  t'aey 
treit  oat  of  tha  house  together  a  few  steps  and  stopi>ed. 

I  never  done  you  any  harm,'  said  Mr.  Meadows 

Ton  never  did,  certio,  shore,'  answered  Alloa,  'nor  uo  particklar  good.  Bat 
lifeat'g  neither  here  uor  thar  ;  what  do  yom  waut  ?' 

Doa't  tell  what  yeu  heard  tell  I  jit  away.' 

'Did'nt  I  say  I  would'nt  ?  Uut  yoa  must  leave  tolerble  soou.  I  can't  keep 
it  long.    I  fairly  eech  to  tell  it  bow,' 

'L'U<;  school-master  stood  a  naomt-rit,  turning  hia  hat  i»  his  hands,  as  if  liesi* 
laiing  what  eort  of  leave  to  take.    He  timidly  offered  Alleii  bis  hand. 

'I  rutfaer  no^,'  said  Allen,  and  for  the  first  lime  seemed  a  little  embarrassed. 
Suddeoly  the  mau  hauled  his  hat  on  his  head,  and  walked  away.  lie  had  jast 
©Ktered  the  path  iu  the  thicket,  and  turning  unobservjnl,  he  paused,  and  looked 
back  at  the  school-house.  And  oh,  the  anger,  the  iapotent  rage,  the  chagrin 
acd  shaiae  which  were  depicted  on  his  bloodshot  face.     N'o  exiled   monarch 


eT«y  felt  were  grief »«(!  misery  than  he  felt  at  that  inomcm.  He  pauKd  but 
foF  a  nwrntnL  Then  laising  both  bis  hands  ami  ehating:  them  towards  t!i3 
house  without  saying  a  word,  he  turned  again  and  almost  ran  along  the  path. 

Alter  h«  had  gone,  and  not  until  he  had  gotten  oat  oi  sight,  Allen,  to  whom 
all  eyes  -were  turnctl  (except  BrinkJy'g  who  yet  sat  with  his  head  hiddtn  la  hi^ 
hands  ob  the  bench)  took  Mr.  Meadows'  chair,  and  crossing  his  legs,  said  ; 

'Well,  boys  and  gals,  the  •oosepond  it  seem  arf  a  broke  up  school.  The 
school-master  have,  so  to  speak,  absquatnlated.  Thar's  to  be  no  more  horaia  * 
here  ;  and  the  circus  are  clean  shot  up.  And  the  only  thing  I  hates  about  it 
is  that  its  Brinkly  that's  dor.e  it  and  not  me.  But  he  would'nt  give  me  a 
cbanec.  No,'  he  continued,  sorrowfully  and  as  if  speaking  to  himself,  'he 
wonld'nt  give  mc  a  chance.  Nary  single  word  could  1  ever  git  him  to  say  to 
me  out  of  the  way.  I  have  misted  lessons,  'deed  I  never  said  none.  I  never 
kept  nary  single  rule  in  his  school,  and  he  would'nt  say  nothing  to  mc' 

Then  rising  and  roing  to  Brinkly,  he  put  his  hand  upon  hia  shoulder. 

'No,  its  jest  as  it  ought  to  a  bin  ;  you  was  the  one  tc  do  it,  and  in  the  naaio 
of  all  that's  jest,  Brinkly  Glisson,  what  ?.$  you  been  cryin  about  ?  Git  up,  boj 
and  go  and  wash  your  face.  I  would  rather  have  done  what  you've  done,  than 
'0  a  bin  the  man  that  fooled  the  tory  in  the  Revolutionary  "War,  and  stolcd  his 
horse  in  the  life  of  Marion.    Come  along  and  wash  that  face  and  handa.' 

And  he  almost  dragged  Brinkly  to  the  pail,  and  poured  water  while  be 
washed. 

The  children,  recovering  from  their  consternatien  into  which  they  had  beeu 
thrown  by  the  combat  and  its  result,  now  began  to  walk  about  the  hous«, 
picking  up  their  book«  and  laying  them  down  again.  They  would  go  to  the 
door  and  look  out  towards  Mr.  Meadows'  path,  as  if  expecting  and  indeed,  half- 
way hoping,  half-way  fearing  that  he  would  return  ;  and  then  they  woulrf 
stand  around  Allen  and  Brinkly.  as  thclatter  was  washing  and  drying  himself.  B«l 
they  spoke  not  a  word.  Suddenly  Allen,  wimicking  the  tone  of  Mr.  Meadows, 
cried  out : 

'Asa  Boatright  and  .Sam  Pate,  go  to  horsin.' 

Ib  a  moment  they  all  burst  into  sho*ts  of  laughter.  Asa  mounted  upo« 
vSam'i  back,  and  Sam  pranced  about  and  neighed,  ah,  po  gaily.  Allen  got  a 
switeh  and  made  as  if  he  would  strike  Asa,  and  that  young  gentleaian  for  the 
first  time  in  the  performance  of  this  iateresting  exercise,  acreamed  with  delight 
iastead  of  pain. 

'Lit  ^sabe  the  sehool-Biatter,'  sho«tcd  Alien.  'Good  moraiug,  Mr.  Boat- 
right,'  said  he  with  notk  humility.  -Mr.  Boatright,  may  T  go  out  ?'  aikeil 
tiMifhv.  half  a  dozca  Idot;-. 


3S  HUIMSOIS   TALBS. 

Asa  dismounted,  and  seizing  a  hickory,  kc  stood  up  in  the  middle  ol  :he  floor, 
and  the  others  formed  the  circus  around  him.  Here  they  came  and  went, 
jsmping  over  his  switch,  and  crying  out  and  stooping  to  rub  their  legs,  and 
begging  him  to  stop  'for  God's  salie.  Mr.  Boatright,  stop.' 

Suddenly  an  idea  struck  Mr.  Eoatright.  Di3l)andiug  the  circus,  he  cried 
oat : 

You,  Is'rl  Meadows,  come  up  here,  sir.  Been  a  lightcu,  have  yon,  sir  t  come 
'•Hp.  sir.    Oh,  here  you  are.' 

Mr.  Boatright  fell  upon  the  teacher's  chair,  and  of  all  the  Qoggiugi  which  a 
harmless  piece  of  furniture  ever  did  receive,  that  unlucky  chair,  did  the:i  and  there 
receive  the  worst.  Mr.  Boatright  called,  it  names,  he  dragged  it  over  the 
floor ;  he  threatened  to  burn  it  up  ;  .he  shook  it  violently ;  he  knocked  it 
against  the  wall ;  one  of  its  rounds  falling  out,  he  beat  it  most  unmercifully 
with  that ;  and  at  last,  exhausted  by  the  exercise  and  satisfied  with  his  revenge 
he  indignantly  kicked  it  out  of  doors,  amid  the  screams  and  shouts  of  his 
school-fellows. 

CHAPTER  Vn. 

•Far  you  well,'  said  Allen,  solemnly,  lo  the  fallen  chair. 

They  now  all  gathered  u  p  their  books  and  slates,  and  hats  and  bonnets,  and 
started  ofl  for  their  several  homes.  Those  who  went  the  same  way  witli 
Brinkly,  listened  with  the  most  respectful  attention  as  he  talked  with  Allen  on 
the  way,  and  showed  how  bitterly  he  had  suffered  from  tl)e  crucify  of  Mr 
Meadows.  They  had  already  lost  their  resentment  at  the  dishonor  of  tha^ 
monarch'd  royalty,  and  were  evidently  regarding  iirinkly  with  the  devotion 
with  which  mankind  always  regard  rebels  who  are  successful.  Each  one  strove 
to  get  the  nearest  him  as  he  walked.  One  little  fellow,  after  trying  several 
times  to  slip  in  by  his  side,  got  ahead  and  walked  backwards  as  he  looked  at 
Brinckly  and  listened.  He  was  so  far  gone  under  the  old  regime  that  he  felt  n^ 
relief  from  what  had  happened.  He  had  evidently  not  understood  anything  at 
all  about  it.  He  seemed  to  be  trying  to  do  so,  and  to  make  out  for  certain 
whether  that  was  Brinkly  or  not.  The  voice  of  those  young  republicans,  had 
Brinkly  been  ambitious,  weuld  hare  made  him  dictator  of  the  Goosepond. 
Even  Allen  felt  a  consideration  for  Brinkly,  which  was  altogether  new.  He 
had  always  expected  that  Brinkly  would  at  some  day  resist  the  master,  bat  hp 
did  not  dream  of  the  chivalrous  spirit  of  the  lad  nor  that  the  resistance  when  it 
flhonld  come,  would  be  so  terrible  and  disastrous.  He  had  always  regarded 
Brinkly  as  his  inferior;  he  was  now  quite  satisfied  to  consider  him  as  no  more 
than  hie  equal.    How  we  all,  brave  men  and  cowards,  do  honor  the  brave ! 


HUMCatOUS   TALBS.  ^  33 

And  Brinkly  had  just  given,  iu  the  opinion  of  his  school-fellows,  the  most 
brilliant  illustration  of  courage  which  the  world  had  erer  seen. 

Bmt  Brinkly  was  not  ambitious  nor  vain ;  he  felt  no  triumph  in  his  victory . 
On  the  contrary,  he  was  sad  ;  he  wished  it  could  have  been  avoided.  He  ^aid 
to  Allen  that  he  wished  he  could  have  stood  it  a  little  lonsjer. 

'Name  o'  Gui,  Brinkly  Glisson,  what  for?  It  is  the  astonishenist  thing  I 
ever  heerd  of,  for  you  to  be  sorry  for  maulin  a  rascal  who  beat  you  like  a  dog, 
and  that  for  nothin.     What  for,  T  .=»y  again  ?' 

'On  mother's  account.' 

Allen  stopped — they  had  gotten  to  the  road  t'aat  tamed  off  to  his  home. 

'You  tell  your  mother  that  when  she  knewa  as  much  about  that  villian  as  j 

do,  she    will  be  proud  of  vou  for  maulin  him.    Look  hcic,  Brinkly,  I  promised 

him  I  would'nt  tell  on  him  tell  he  had  collected  his  schoolin  account  and  was  off 

But  you  tell  your  mother  that  if  she  gdla  hurt  with  you  for  thrashin  him,  she 

will  get  worse  hurt  with  herself  when  she  knows  what  I  do.' 

Saying  this,  Allen  shook  hands  with  him  and  the  others  and  went  oS,  merrily 
singing  'Jerusa.  ;u  my  happy  home.'  Soon  all  the  rest  had  diverged  by  by- 
roads to  their  own  homes,  and  Brinkly  pursued  his  way  alone. 

It  was  about  twelve  o'clock  when  he  reached  home.  The  widow's  house  was 
a  single  log  tenement  with  a  small  shed-room  behind.  A  kitchen,  a  meat-house, 
a  dairy,  a  crib  with  two  stalls  in  the  rear,  one  for  the  horse  the  other  for  the 
cow,  were  the  out  building?.  Homely  and  poor  as  this  little  homestead  was,  it 
wore  au^ir  o'  much  neatness  and  comfort.  The  yard  looked  clean  ;  the  floors 
of  both  mansion  and  kitchen  were  clean,  and  the  little  dairy  lookai  as  if  it 
knew  it  was  clean,  but  that  was  nothing  new  or  strange.  Several  large  rost 
bushes  stood  on  either  side  of  the  little  gate,  ranged  along  the  yard  puling. 
Two  rows  of  pincks  and  narcissus  hedged  the  walk  from  the  gate  to  the  doer 
where,  on  blocks  of  oak,  rested  two  boxes  of  the  geranium. 

The  widow  was  in  the  act  of  sitting  down  to  her  dinner,  when  hearing  the 
gate  open  and  shut,  she  advanced  to  the  door  to  see  who  might  be  there.  Slow- 
ly and  sadly  Brinkly  advanced  to  the  door. 

'Lord  have  mercy  upon  my  soul  and  body,  Brijikly,  what  is  the  matter  with 
you  ?  and  what  have  you  bc«n  a  doing,  and  what  made  you  come  from  the  school. 
louse  this  time  o'  day  ?'  was  the  greeting  he  met. 

'Don't  be  scared,  mother  ;  it  is'nt  much  that's  the  matter  with  me.  Let  us 
ait  down  by  the  fire  here,  and  I'll  tell  you  all  about  it.' 

lliey  sat  down,  and  the  mother  looked  upon  the  son  and  tiie  son  upon  the 
■Other. 


M  ■•ll«KOfK     TALII. 

I  wa-'  afraid  it  wonlil  tome  to  it.  mother ;  God  knowa  how  1  h»Te  trie  d  t» 
keep  I'rom  doing  what  I  bare  bad  to  Co  at  tut. 

•Brinttlj,  haT«  jea  »one  and  Ibigllt  with  Mr.  Meadows  V 

•Ye»,  mother.' 

And  £0  ruined  your$elf  and  me,  too." 

'I  hope  not,  molhcr." 

'Yes,  here  have  I  worked  aijd  denied  myself;  day  and  nig-Ut  I  bate  pinched 
lo  give  you  an  education,  and  'his  is  the  way  you  pay  me  toe  ic.'  and  she  fell 
straight  to  crying. 

'Mother,  do  listen  to  me  before  yon  cry  and  fret  any  more,  and  I  believe  yon 
will  think  1  have  lot  done  wrong.    Please,  mother,  listen  to  me/  he  entreated 
iis  she  continned  to  weep,  and  ro?kiJ  herself  in  order,  as  it  seemed,  to  gire  ei 
couragement  and  keep  time  to  Lor  weeping.    But  she  wept  and  rocked.    Br  inkly 
turned  from  her  and  seemed  dogedly  hopele«. 

'Say  on  what  you're  going  to  say.  S;iy  on  what  yon'rc  going  to  say.  If 
youTe  got  anything  to  say,  eay  it. 

'1  can't  tell  you  anything  while  yon  keep  crying  so-  Pleas*  don't  cry,  inothsr 
I  don't  believe  yen  will  blame  me  when  I  tell  you  what  f  hav-  b.-en  throigk.  > 
iHs  manner  was  so  Lvmble  aud  beseeching,  that  his  motlitT  -u:  ^^till  and  ia  a 
less  fretful  tone,  again  bade  him  go  on. 

Mother,  as  1  eaid  before,  (jfed  knows  that  I've  tried  to  keep  from  it.  and  c«nld 
nut,  you  don't  know,  mother,  how  that  man  has  treated  ms. ' 

'Jlow  has  he  treated  you  ?'  .-;he  inquired,  looking  at  her  sen  for  the  first  tin? 
fhe  had  l>ee)i  sitting. 

You  were  so  anxious  fo.-  mu  to  iearu.  and  1  was  so  auxious  myself  to  learo 
that  1  have  never  told  you  of  hardly  auy  of  his  treatment.  Oh,  mother,  he  kts 
beat  me  worse  than  anybody  oaght  to  beat  the  meanest  dog.  He  has  called  mc 
and  you  poor,  nnd  made  fan  of  ns  because  wc  were  poor.  He  has  called  me  a 
scoundrel,  a  beggar,  a  fool.  When  I  told  him  that  you  wanted  mc  to  qnit 
geography,  he  said  you  was  a  fool  and  ha<l  a  fool  for  a  son.  anfl  that  he  had  ■« 
doubt  that  rny  father  was  a  fool  btMorc  mc' 

The  widow  dried  her  face  with  her  handkerchief,  settled  herself  in  hor  ekair 
aud  said  : 

'When  he  said  them  things  he  told  a— what s  not  no  ;  I'll  say  it  if  ke  is  a 
fchool-mafltcr.'  And  she  looked  a«  if  she  was  aware  that  the  responsibility  of 
that  bold  observation  wai  large. 

'He  said,'  eentinvcd  Br'inkly,  that  I  should  stidy  it,  aid  if  I  dtd'at  git  Mie 
Itasoss  he'd  beat  ma  as  tong  as  k«  eoald  find  a  hiekory  to  beAt  me  witk.  l  s4w«4 
it  all  beeaits  it  was  ay  eity  «k»«e  to  git  aiy  sohoolia.     Sit  T  told  hiM  Wta 


HTJMOEOUS   TALES.  35 

— that  is  when  ho  called  you  a  fool,  and  father  one,  too — that  it  was'at  so,  and 
that  be  ought  not  to  say  so.  Well,  yesterday,  yoa  know  you  sent  me  by  Mr. 
NorrLs'  to  pay  back  the  meal  we  borrowed,  and  i  did'nt  get  to  the  school-house 
quite  in  time.  But  he  was'nt  more  than  a  hundred  yanlg  ahead  of  mc,  and  when 
he  saw  me,  he  hurried  just  to  keep  me  from  being  in  time.  When  I  told  him 
liow  you  had  sent  me  by  Mr.  Norr',',  he  only  laughed  and  called  me  a  liar,  and 
then — look  at  my  shoulder,  motdjer.'    •      ; 

He  took  off  his  coat,  unbuttoned  his  shtrt  and  eXy  ;ou!der  and  back, 

blackened  with  hideous  bruises. 

'Oh,  my  son,  my  poor  son,'  wag  all  that  mother  could  say. 

She  had  not,  in  fact,  know  5  a  tenth  of  the  crueltica  and  ia^ults  which  Brinkly 
had  borLC  He  Lad  frequently  importuned  her  to  let  him  quit  the  school  But 
she,  supposed  that  it  was  because  of  the  difflpulties  of  learnii^  hia  lessoo  A'hich 
got  for  him  au  occasional  puni.^braent,  and  such  as  was  incident  to  th  'ileof 
every  school-boy.  bad  and  good,  idle  and  ihdoitrlon?.  These  thoughts,  cvp '  ling 
■with  ber  ardent  dosirc  that  he  should  have'somf.'  'earning,  even  at  '■,•  :  of 
receiving  some  harsh  and  even  unjust  pmlishmeijt;  made  her  persist  ii;  .^cciiing 
him  there.  Seeing  her  anxiety,  and  to  avoid  making  her  unhafipy,  Brinkiy  had 
concealed  fram  her  the  greater  nart  of  the  wrongs  which  iie  had  sufferrcd.  But 
when  she  heard  how  he  had  been  abused,  and  p^aw  the  f  tripes  and  bruises  upon 
his  body,  her  motjier's  heart  could  not  restrain  itsiili',  and  she  wept  sorely. 

Well .  mother,  I  stood  this  too,  bat  last  night  I  cauld'nt  sleep.  I  thoug'ht 
about  all  he  had  said  and  al!  Iw  had  done  to  me,  and  I  made  up  my  mind  to  quit 
him  any  how.  But  this  marning  before  day  I  thought,  for  your  sake,  I  would 
try  it  once  more.  So  I  got  up  and  studied  my  lesson  here  and  all  the  way  to 
the  school  houso ;  and  I  did  know  it,  mother,  or  I  thought  I  did,  for  lie  would'nt 
tell  me  how  to  pronounce  the  words,  but  Allen  Thigpen  did,  and  I  pronounce<l 
them  just  like  Allen  told  me.  When  I  told  him  that,  he  called  mc  a  liar,  and 
afterward.^  I  begged  him  not  to  strike  me  but  to  let  nio  go  home.  But 
would  strike  nie,  and  I  fought  him.' 

'And  you  done  right.  'Oh,  ray  son,  my  poor  Brinkly  I  Yea,  you  are  poor 
the  poor  son  of  a  poor  wi'dow  ;|but  I  am  proud  that  you  have  got  the  heart 
to  fight  when  you  are  abused  and  insulted.  If  'd  known  half  of  what  yon  have 
bad  to  bear,  you  should  have  quit  bis  school  long  ago,  yoii  should,  Brinckly,  my 
darling,  that  you  should.  But  hew  could  you  expect  to  tight  him  and  not  be 
beat  to  death  ?  Why  didn't  you  run  away  from  him  and  come  to  me  ?  He 
would'nt  have  beat  you  bo  where  I  was.'    And  she  looked  as  if  she  felt  herself 

0  be  quite  sufTicient  for  the  protection  of  her  young. 

'Mother,  I  did'nt  want  to  run  ;  I  could'nt  run  from  such  a  man  asiio  is.     Once 

1  thought  I  would  take  my  hat  and  books  and  come  away  ;  bat  I  could  not  do 


36  UBMOROra  TA.Lfc6. 

that  wilbout  running  and  I  lOiUd'nt  run;  ijou  woald'nt  want  nje  to  ran.  woaKi 
yon,  mother?'    Tlie  widow  lookeci  puzzled. 

'No,  but  hf  is  so  much  bigger  than  you,  that  it  wouldnt  a  looKcd  exactly 
like  yon  wa?  a  coward  ;  and  then  he  has  hurt  yoo  so  bud';  my  poor  Briakly- 
'lu  dou't  know  how  your  (ace  is  scratched.' 

1  hurt  him  worse  tlian  he  hurt  me.  mother  ' 
•Vvhat?^ 

'I  hurt  him  worse  than  he  hurt  me  ;  I  qot  the  best  of  it. 
'Glory!' 

In  fact.  I  whipped  him.' 
'Glory  1  jrlorv  I' 
'When  J  had  him  down— 
Brinkly,  did  you  have  him  down,  my  jor,  .' 
Yes,  and  he  begged  me  t«  spare  him." 
Glory  be  to- -glory  be  to — but  you  did  not  do  it,  did  you  ? 
'Ye.q.  mother,  as  soon  as  he  give  up  and  begged  me  to  stop,  [  let  him  none.' 

•  I  would'ot  B  done  it,  certin,  shore  I' 

Yes  you  wouW,  mother ;  if  you  had  seen  how  he  was  hurt,  and  how  badiy 
he  looked,  yon  would  a  spared  him,  I  know  you  would."      ' 

•Well,  maybi:  J  might ;  1  suppose  it  wa.s  right,  as  he  was  a  man  grown  aad  ;• 
school-master  to  boot.  Maybe  it  was  best :  maybe  it  was  best — maybe  F  might 
a  done  it  too" 

She  had  nsfu  Irom  the  chair  and  was  pacing  the  floor.  This  new  view  of 
Drinckly's  relation  to  his  tyrant  was  one  on  which  she  rcfjuired  time  for  reflec 
lion.  She  evidently  fcU,  however,  that  as  Flrinkly  had  ;f0  often  been  at  the 
bottom  in  the  combat,  now,  when  he  had  risen  to  the  top,  there  was  no  great 
liaDO  in  staying  there  a  little  longer.  'TJiit  maybe  i  t  was  best ;  1  reckon  now  he 
wont  be  quite  so  brash  with  his  other  scIinLirp.' 

He  will  never  have  another  chance.' 

•What'.'" 

•Allen  ha.s  found  out  all  about  him,  and  where  lie  oanie  from,  and  .-^ays  he  is  a 
man  of  bad  diaracter.  He  begged  Allen  not  to  say  anything  about  it  until  ho 
got  his  money  and  could  git  away.    So  he  is  quit  and  the  school  is  broke  up." 

•Glory  I  glory  1  hallelujah!'  shouted  again  and  sung  the  mother. 

Let  her  shout  and  sing !  Infioite  juatice,  pardon  the  poor  widow  lor  shouting 
and  singing,  now,  when  lier  only  son,  though  poor  and  an  orphan,  though  bruised 
and  mangled,  appears  to  her  grand  and  l.)eftutiful  as  if  he  were  a  monarch's  son 
and  the  heir  to  a  mighty  empire.  ' 


JUDGE  MIKE  AND  HIS  COURT 


-»•*  -  »  ^~ 


CHAPTER  [. 

Once  upon  a-  time,  in  this  glorioms  country,  a  I'espectable  but 
vmcducated  gentlewoman,  who  had  taken  to  her  home  the 
ohild  of  poor  parents,  h!j,d  brought  her  up  with  much  care  and 
tenderness  ;  and  had,  tliough  reluctantly,  allowed  her  to  re- 
ceive, at  the  hands  of  some  other  benevolent  person,  a  year's 
schooling,  luid  the  misfortune  to  lose  her  protege.  The  young- 
lady,  wlio  was  very  pretty,  being  offered  a  home  in  a  family, 
Avhere  she  supposed  tliat  she  could  find  better  society  and  more 
enjoyments  than  wei*e  to  be  luid  in  the  liousc  of  her  first  bene- 
factress, accepted  this  offer,  and  refused  to  return.  Tlie  good 
lady,  in  her  distress,  stiirching  eagerly  how  slie  might  avoid 
placing  anyblainc  upon  the  beloved  cliild  of  her  adoption,  at 
tributed  her  loss  to  education. 

'It  was  education,  sii-,'  she  suid  l)itterly,  uhtii  .^iir.  liad  give.. 
up  her  efforts  to  recover  her  lost  love.  'It  was  education  that 
done  it  all.  They  may  say  what  they  please  about  education  : 
T  do  believe  that  the  niurc  education  people  have  the  meaner 
they  get.'  Woe  had  been  to  the  schools  and  colleges  hence- 
forth if  she  could  have  had  her  way  with  them. 

There  are  many  persons  in  this,  which,  in  our  pride  lor  some 
things  she  has  done,  we  call  the  Empire  State  of  the  South, 
who  feel  aiul  speak  like  this  gentlewoman  regarding  another 
great  instrument  of  fivili%ation.     A  few   of  the   iudgmeuts  of 


38  HUMOROUS   TALES. 

our  Supreme  Court  Jiave  appeared  to  them  to  he  erroneous,  uutl 
destined  to  t^c  fruitful  of  evil  elfeets   upon   the   enjoyment  of 
personal   security   and  private  luvjperty.     Now   if  it  be  not,  it 
ought  to  be  generally  known,  that  the  judges  of  that  Court  are 
required,  (and  such  has  actuallj  been  the  case   witli   each  one 
of  them,   that   ceremony   never   having,   in  a  single  instance, 
been  omitted,)  to  take  solemn  oaths  on   their   accession   to  the 
Bench,   that  they  will  administer  the  laws  of  the   State.     Un- 
fortunately,  however,    it   has   tJius  far,  from  some  cause,  been 
impossible  for  our  Legislatures   to   make   u  j^ei-fect  judiciary 
system.     So  various  are- the  pursuits  of  men,  so  complicated 
are  the  relations  of  business   and   social   intercourse,   and   so 
subtle  arc  the  influences,  which  control  their  minds  and  direct 
their   actions,   that   our  Legislators,  even  admitting  that  they 
have  usually,  beeii  our  wisest  and  best  men,  have  sometimes, 
as  if  to  make*  good  the  saying,  'that  there  is  nothing  perfect 
under  the  sun."  enacted  very  unwise   laws.     Tliese   laws,   our 
judgl's   not   bcuig  invested  by  the  constitution  with  ])ower  to 
change  them,  have' had  occasions  to   declare  to  be  in  full  force 
as  ]oi\^  as  they  remain  unrepealed.     But   many   of  those  who 
have   been   dissatisfied   with    the  judgments   which  .seem  so 
blameable,  are  wont,  in  their  hasty  indignation,  tt>  attribute  all 
tlie  consequences  of  erroneous  legislatiou  to  the  circumstances 
of  there  being   an  institution  called  'A  Supreme  Court  lor  the 
correction  of  Errors.'     If  we  hear  tliat,  away»down  in  a  AVire- 
grass  county,  where  there  is  not  much  of  nnjrthing  good  to  eat 
but  beef,    a  hungry  lout  lias  stolen  a  yearling,  and  l)ecn  ac- 
qutited  on   the  trial  of  the  indictment  of  a  jury,  the  foreman 
of  which   had    a  liind  quarter  to  liimself,  too  dieap  and  asked 
no  questions,  wliy,  there  is  the   Supreme   Court!     Why  don't 
it  stop  such    things^     If  an   evil    disposctl   person  is  guilty  of 
malicious  mischief,  or  an  owner  of  a  tippling  shop  keeps  it  open 
on  the   Sabbatli   day,  and  a  young  solicitor,  who  has  been  six 
months  or  a  year,  at  the  bar,  does  not  kniow  how  to   prosecute 
these  offences,   and   they   go    unpunished.     Why  there  now  ! 
didn't  T  tell  you  so  ?     Can  you  expect  luiy thing  else  as  long  as 
we  have  a  Supreme  Court  ?     If  a  good  man's   daughter,  thir- 
teen years  old,  is  stolen,  hurried  before  a  Justice  of  the  Peace, 
and* in  iSve  minutes'  time  made  the  wife  of  a   vagabond — good 
Heavens !     Is  there  no  law  to  prevent  such   outrages   against 
the  happiness  of  parents  and  the  well  being  of  society.    None. 
Ah !  no,  I  suppose  not.    That  Supreme  Court !  it  ought  to  be 


KL'MOKOUS   TALES.  39 

abolished.  1  do  hope  the  next  Legislature  will  abolish  the 
whole  concern.  We  shall  never  have  any  peace  again  until 
we  set  back  to  the  good  old  times  under  whicli  our  fathers 
lived. 

Well,  those  old  tunes  were  very  good  iu  uuuiy  respects. 
Beef  was  cheap,  and  the  temptation  to  steal  it  was  small.  Men 
did  not  often  commit  malicious  mischief,  or  keep  open  tip- 
pling houses  on  forbidden  days,  because  land  was  not  high, 
])Cople  lived  more  widely  apart,  and  every  one  kept  his  own 
liquor  at  home,  gave  to  his  neighbor,  and  received  from  his 
neighbor  as  much  as  they  wished  ;  and,  except  upon  Sundays, 
when  they  went  to  church,  all  got  drunk  as  often  as  they 
pleased.  '  Nor  did  maids  of  tliirteen  very  often  run  otf  with 
vagabonds;  l)ecause,  fortunately  for  themselves,  they  were 
kept  at  home  with  their  mothers  at  that  age,  and  knew  no  bet- 
ter than  to  obey  them ;  while  what  few  vagabonds  there  were, 
were  wont,  in  the  small  developemeut  which  the  credit  system 
had  undergone,  to  carry  upon  their  persons  the  unmistakable 
badges  of  their  profession. 

It  is  pleasing  to  an  old  man,  like  me,  to  recur  to  thos'e  times. 
Corn,  twenty  cents  a  bushel,  except  to  wagoner.^,  who  being 
strangers,  and  considering  that  their  silver  might,  prove  to  be 
pewter,  were  made  to  pay  a  quarter  of  a  dollar.  Bacon,  no 
price  at  all,  because  everybody  had  a  plenty,  and  because  the 
woods  were  full  of  game,  and  the  creeks  wcro  full  of  tisb. 
Blessed  be  the  memory  of  those  old  tiines  I  The  most  of  those 
who  were  then  my  friends  and  ro^> ',;.:;;<•:  o  are  gone,  and  I 
am  left  almost  alone.  B':„  a. ur  Uic  recollection  of  what  they 
were  to  me,  I  say  again,  blessed  be  the  memory  of  those  old 
times ! 

But  like  all  other  times,  they  had  their  evils  and  their  wants. 
Men  and  systems  were  not  perfect  even  then.  True,  they  had  not 
many  schools,  and  they  had  no  Supreme  Court.  And 
yet,  in  what  schools  and  courts  they  did  havey  there 
were  many  things,  which,  when  men  thought  u]>onfhem  at  all, 
they  thou^t  might  as  well  have  been  done  ditt'd'ently,  or  left 
undone.  Tlie  schools  had  ways  of  righting  theinselves.  The 
thini^s  done  in  them,  though  seriously  inconveuient  at  the  time 
of  their  doing  were  not  very  serious  in  theii'  consequences. 
Boys  knew  them  to  be,  as  they  were,  institiifj.pVv^  uil^etoZM 
to  get  used  to  them.  Or.  if  i..?ribd  down  to  a  moderate  and 
he  irot  his  duckinL'.  "^ 


I 

HBM.>R<JL'K    TAL>>. 


reasonable  rompcratui-o.  Not  .>o  with  \hv  V6ur\>  and  the 
Judges,  when,  what  pomctinu^  wiw  the  lasc.  one  of  the  latter 
ivap  neither  fully  edueated  in  all  the  Icarninir  ap|)li(!,iblc  to  all 
cases  arisinix  in  law  and  in  Chancerv,  noi-  wholly  above  the 
prejudices  and  other  infirmities  to  which  the  rc?t  of  niaulcind 
are  subject. 

Wliilc  men  :ui' thinking  of  those  old  time.^  nnd  reminding 
one  anothiM-  of  the  jnany  :z;lorious  things  wliich  tliey  liad,  (c*^- 
pecially  yonng  men,  who.  having  rcccivc<l  them  by  tradition, 
regard  them  with  peculiar  love  and  veneration,  lli()]>citwillnot 
be  amiss  in  nic — wlio  have  lived  in  both  the  old  and  the  new 
— to  describe  as  well  as  my  memory  will  serve  me,  a  character 
or  two,  and  a  scene  or  two,  which  the  funner  enacted  in  :\ 
Court,  now  nearly  thirty  years  ago.  And  as  T  have  used  many 
words  in^  the  way  of  ]»rcliminaries,  and  as  I  have  mentioned 
one  tact  wliich,  (though  it  has  nothing  whatever  to  do  with 
my  narrative,  except  to  hel]>  t(i  illustrate  its  moral,  is  yet  a 
fact,  having  transpired  in  the  old  times,)  1  will  stoi>  ^'^^'  -'^  *i^o- 
ment  right  where  I  ain,  and  call  what  T  have  written  a  Chapter. 

CnAPl^EK  II. 

A  young  mail,  a  native  of  Virgim':!.  and  :\  graduate  of  the 
law-school  in  the  Univei*sity  of  that  State,  had  come  to  Geoi-- 
gia  for  the  purpose  of  seeking  a  home  and  practising  his  j>rofe6- 
sion.  One  morning,  in  the  beginning  of  spring,  in  company 
with  a  middle-aged  gentleman,  whose  ac(]uaintance  he  had 
newly  made,  he  rode  towards  the  village  ni-ar  which  the  latter 
resided,  for  the  purpose  of  being  iTitroduced  to. some  of  the  mem- 
bers of  the  IJar  residing  there.  As  thi'  two  were  ridin^^  along, 
iifter  s<jmc  conver-sation  ui)onthe  practice  of  law  and  other  pur- 
t;«its  in  the  South,  the  younger  gentleman  asked  of  the  elder  if 
there  wa«  in  the  South  a  Court  of  En-oi-s. 

'I  donot  remember  to  have  so  haird,  but  1  pi'c-sumc  that 
you  have  such  a  Court.' 

'Yee,  indeed,'  cxclaimi;d  the  elder,  Mnany  a  one  We  have 
Lo  other  sort  in  Georgia.  But  I  know  what  you  mean,  sir,'  he 
added,  seeing  the  young  man's  surprise.  '1  answcre<l  your 
question  literally,  because  what  I  say  is  very  nearly  literally 
true,  and  it  is  s^)  doubtlcfls  because  wehave  no  court  for  the  cor- 
lection  of  errors  which  those  we  do  have  continually  commit. 
wlftadmiUed  to\h<'~eUfr^'^i-*lf^  although  I  once  studie<l  it,  and 

--•^'^'ticed.  and    vet  I  have 


HUMOROUS    TALES.  41 

aeerj  enough  to  know  that,  with  onr  present  judiciary  system, 
the  law  e«n  never  beeoiuo  a  science  settled  upon  any  ascer- 
tained principles.' 

'There  can  be  very  little  doubt  as  to  that." 

'We  have  no  lack  of  lawyers  of  real  ability,  bul  1  doubt  it 
there  is  in  the  South  aiiotlierSrate  so  deficient  in  its  judiciary 
asdurs.  We  have,  as  1  said,  many  able  lawyers,  but  seldom 
an  able  Judge.  The  salary  is  so  small  that  a  lawyer  of  first 
rate  ability,  unless  he  be  a  man  of  pro})orty,  ('and  such  men,' 
he  added,  'in  parenthesis,  with  a  slight  touch  of  dignity  which 
did  not  esca])e  the  other,  'rarely  enter  the  professions,')  will  not 
go  upon  the  l^eiuih.  It  is,  therefore,  generally  occupied  by  men 
"of  inferior  learning  and  ability;  and  as  we  nave  no  Supreme 
Court,  and  each  is  independent  in  his  circuit,  there  isof  com-sc 
no  uniformity  in  their  decisions,  but  many  an  error  you  may  be 
sure.  1  reside  hei-e  near  the  boundaries  of  three  circuits.  I  and 
my  neighbors  of  two  adjoining  counties,  live  under  three  diffe- 
rent systems  of  laws,  "lam  tolerably  posted  on  that  of  my 
own  circuit,  but  I  dare  not  move  out  of  it,  as  I  have  known 
others  to  do  to  their  sorrow.*  Even  here,  whenever  a  new 
judge  is  elected,  we  shall  have  a  new  system  to  learn  ;  for,  like 
every  schoohnaster  who  begins  by  throwing  out  of  the  school- 
room all  the  text  books  which  his  prcdeces.sor  employed,  he 
will  fear  that  he  will  be  considered  as  nobody  unless  he  over- 
rules much  of  what  our  present  judge  has  decided.' 

'Does  not  your  constitution  provide  fi)r  a  Supreme  C'ourt  ? 

'It  does,  but,  bless  you  sir,  the  ]>eople  are  almost  unanimous- 
ly opposed  to  its  being  established.  They  say  that  they  are 
already  to  much  worried  by  Courts  to  think  of  making  any 
mure  of  them.  The  lawyers  too,  tlie  most  of  them,  are  equally 
opo«,'d  to  it,  because  they  know — hang  them,  and  who  should 
know  bO  well  as  they — that  it  would  lessen  litigation  by  lessen- 
ing what  is  to  them  the  glorious  uncertainty  of  the  law.  A 
man  who  would  get  an  office  here  must  not  open  his  mouth  in 
favor  of  a  Supreme  Court,  lie  had  as  well  avow  himself  a 
disciple  of  Alexander  Hamilton,  or  a  iViend  of  the  administra- 
tion of  John  Adams.' 

They  had  just  reached  the  public  sipuire  and  alighted,  when 
Mr.  Parkinson  pointed  to  a  little  ofiice  ..n  thec<irn<M'  of  it,  into 
which  two  men  were  entering. 

'There  go  two  limbs  of  the  law  now.   We  %vill  ^o  in  ;.t  once. 


42  tirMOKOi  S     lALK?. 

and  leading   the   waj  he  walked  in  and  introduced  the  young 
man,  Mr.  Overton,  to  Mr.  feandidifc  and  Mr.  Mobley. 

Mr.  Sandidgc,  ('Elam  Sandidgc.  Attorney  at  Law,"  Over- 
ton luid  read  upon  a  sliingic  ab  he  entered.)  wa.-^  about  titty 
years  old;  tall,  with  very  long  legs,  which  .-ccrned  as  if  they 
were  ashamed  of  his  rather  short  body,  from  the  fact  that  they 
wonld  never  hold  it  straight  up.  lie  had  long  arms.  long 
hands,  and  long  fingers,  which  last  never  loctked  clean.  He 
wore  bliabhy  clothes  too,  which,  if  they  had  l)ecii  ever  so  fine, 
wonld  •yet  have  iookc<I  shabby  for  a  habit  he  had  of  chewing 
tobacco  all  the  time  when  lie  was  not  eating  or  asleep,  and  spit- 
ting on  himself.  Yet,  for  all  these  drawbacks.  Mr.  Sandidgo 
had,  as  it  seemed,  an  ambition  to  appeal-  perfectly  and  univer- 
sally agreeable.  Ilis  coniitenance,  when  he  looked  at  another, 
was  invariably  clothed  in  smiles.  He  never  laughed,  he  only 
smiled.  Wliilc  nature  had  given  him  no  very  acute  sense  of 
the  humorous  ;  and  wliilc,  therefore,  he  never  felt  like  laugh- 
ing, he  had,  apparently  from  a  sense  of  duty,  learned  to  smile, 
and  he  smiled  at  everything.  If  one  said  'good  morning'  to 
him,  he  was  sure  to  smile  as  he  returned  the  salutation.  If 
one,  in  answer  to  an  inquiry  concerning  his  health,  complained 
of  a  headaclic,  he  smiled  the  most  cordial  sympathy.  There 
was  no  considerable  amount  of  cheer  conveyed  by  his  smiles — 
no  more  than  there  was  by  his  shabby  coat  and- hands;  but 
like  these  they  were  a  part  of  him,  and  one  got  used  to  them. 
But  whoever  said  anything  funny  where  he  and  others  were 
standing,  and  no  person  laughed  except  Sandidgc  .'■•'■  '■'i*^ 
sure  to  smile,  he  felt  cut  up. 

When  Mr.  Pjirkinson  introduced  Mr.  C)verton,  Mr.  baiididge 
arose  and  extended  his  hand  with  a  smile,  which  seemed  to 
say'  'Ah!  you  young  dog!  You  have  come  at  last '^  I  knew 
you  would.' 

Mr.  Mobley  was  a  stout,  line  looking  man,  about  twenty-three 
yearsof  age,  of  the  middle  lieight,  with  dark  complexion,  very 
black  hair  and  whiskers,  and  a  fine  mouth,  full  of  large  sound 
teeth  oi' perfect  whiteness.  There  was  an  ease  and  grace  in  his 
manner,  and  an  expressi(»n  u])on  his  face  which  marked  him  at 
once  to  Mr.  Overton  as  a  well  educated  and  talented  man.  im 
mediately  after  the  introduction  Mr.  Sandidge  looked  at  the 
new  comers  and  then  at  Mr.  Mobley  with  a  smile,  M'hich  the 
latter  interpreted  at  once;  and  after  an  exchange  of  a  few  words 
of  civility,  he  rose  to  go. 


HUMOROUS   TALES.  4:.'5 

'No,  do  not  leave,  Mr.  Mobley,"  Mr.  Parkinson  ,iaid. 
'We  have  no  especial  business  with  Mr.  Sandidgc,  but  came  to 
see  you  both.  So  please  to  remain,  unless  you  have  business 
which  calls  you  away  presently.' 

Mr.  Sandidge  smiles  upon  Mr.  Mobley  as  he  resumed  his  seat ; 
and  but  tliat  we  knew  that  he  was  bound  to  smile  at  all  events, 
we  should  have  suspected  tluit  he  was  infinitely  amused  by  the 
idea  that  Mr.  Mobley  should  have  had  any  business  of  such 
pressing  importance  as  to  require  him  to  go  to  it  m  a  hurry.  He 
then  turned  to  Mr.  Parkinson  and  smiled  inquiringly,  for  this 
was  the  first  time  that  that  gentleman  had  ever  called  on  him, 
except  upon  business. 

'Mr.  Overton  has  removed  to  Georgia  with  a  view  of  be- 
coming located  permaiu'ntly  somewhere  in  the  State  in  the 
practice  of  the  law;  and  lliave  brought  him  here  to  make  him 
acquainted  with  you  both,  knoving  that  he  could  obtain  from 
you  more  of  such  information  as  he  needs  than  he  could  from 
myself;  besides,'  he  added,  looking  at  Mr.  Mobley,  'I  desired  to 
give  him  an  op]x»rtunity  of  extending  liis  acquaintance  among 
those  with  whom  he  might  spend  pleasantly  such  of  his  leisure 
as  he  will  have  when  he  is  wearied  with  the  dullness  of  Ches- 
nut  Grove.' 

Mr.  Mobley  bowed  ;  Mr.  Parkinson  rose,  and  saying,  that 
he  would  return  in  an  hour,  left  the  office,  Mr.  Sandidge  smiling 
at  him  all  the  while,  even  at  his  back  as  he  Avent  out.  A  con- 
versation was  begun  at  once  between  the  young  men,  with  an 
occasional  but  rare  contribution  from  Mr.  Sandidge.  Tlic  lat- 
ter was  no  great  talker  in  a  social  way.  It  was  a  wonderful 
thing  to  him  Iiow  many  things  people  could  find  to  say  to  one 
another  on  matters  of  no  lousiness  whatever,  but  only  in  the  way 
of  civility.  He  could  talk  forever  on  business,  and  in  the  Court 
house  often  made  speeches  of  two  hours  length.  lie  under- 
stood such  things  mighty  well  ;  but  it  puzzled  him  to  see  two 
persons  sitting  down  together  and  talking  for  hours  on  jniscel- 
laneous  sulyects,  sporting  from  one  to  another  witli  perfect 
ease,  having  no  api)arent  motive  except  a  desire  in  each  to  en- 
tertain the  other.  Tliere  was  Mobley  now,  he  would  think, 
a  young  man,  who  in  the  Courthouse  was  as  skittish  as  a  girl, 
whose  practice,  though  he  had  fine  education  and  ability,  after 
a  year's  })ur8uit  of  it,  was  biirely  supporting  him,  and  yet,  as 
soon  as  he  was  out  of  that  dread  place,  and  in  the  society  of ' 
tlie  most  intelligent   and  able  of  the  profession,  he  would  Dear 


44  HCUOROCK   TAl-K*. 

kiff  part  in  the  discussion  of  general  isubji-ctfi,  and  even  .>;  legal 
questiont.  witli  an  oasc  and  Humk^v  whicli  made  him  tin-  moet 
inkTc^iting  ol'  tliom  all,  un(i  the  object  of  the  c*ipt^-ial  envy  of 
Mr.  Sundidi^o.  Bein::  no  philc^hophcr,  Mr.  Sandidgo  could  not, 
for  the  life  of  liim,  mnit.:st:iiitl  howtlic.^c  tliin<jr.5  eould  be  ;  and 
it  seemed  to  him  to  be  n  tt  only  strange,  but  >vTon}2:  that  Mr. 
ICobley,  whom  he  "Nvas  accustomed  to  nm  over  in  the  Court 
house,  should  not  only  seem  to  be,  Init  should  actually  be 
above  him  everywhere  else.  And  yet  .-nch  things  liave  been 
before  and  since,  and  are  to  be  hereafter,  and  have  excited  the 
surprise  of  othci's  be.-ides  Mr.  Sandidgc.  How  many  young 
men  of  excelleJit  talents  and  the  most  finished  education,  have 
for  a  year  or  two  striven  in  vain  to  begin  successfully  careers 
&t  the  bar,  and  have  at  length  shrunk  from  the  pursuit,  and 
left  its  honore  and  emoluments  to  be  gathered  by  the  San- 
•iidges!  Tlie  Sandidgcjs  whom  men  laughed. at  when  they  saw 
them  enter  the  profession,  and  whom  tiiey  continued  to  laugh 
at  for  half  a  dozen  years,  and  after  half  a  dozen  more  years 
liavc  carried  them  all  their  cases,  and  have  at  last  lived  to  see 
them  rich  and  prosperous.  Mr.  Saudidge  would  not  have 
thought  of  exchanging  ])laee^  with  Mr.  Mobley,  or  the  fine 
young  fellow  who  had  been  just  now  introduced  to  him  ;  but 
the  more  they  ran(;n  with  each  other  a])t»ut  law,  literature  and 
"what  not,  the  more  he  wandered  at  and  envied  what  he  thought 
was  their  onlv  irift.  But  he  smiled  whenever  anything  was 
said  U)  him,  or  he  was  expected  to  say  ami  did  say  anything  to 
thcni.  When  Mr.  Overton  inquired  if  there  was  much  litigation 
in  that  circuit,  and  if  money  was  to  be  made  by  the  practice, 
Mr.  Mobley  ^lightly  blushed,  looked  at  Mr.  Sandidge,  and  an- 
swered that  tlu're  was  not  a  great  amount  of  litigation  then 
wrigiuating, and  tliat  Mr.  Sandidge  knew  more  as  to  what  was 
to  be  made  by  the  practice  than  himself.  Regaining  instantly 
.liis  ease  of  nuiuner,  he  laughed  good  naturedly  at  himself,  who 
had  managed,  he  said,  'thus  far  to  make  money  to  pay  my 
Woard  and  store  accounts,  and  not,  I  think,  anything  over.  1 
^o  not,  however,  despair  to  do  better  after  a  wln'le,'  he  added, 
looking  composedly  upon  Mr.  Sandidge. 

Mr.  Sandidge  being  thusapjjealed  to,  and  looking  as  if  he 
felt  that  that  was  a  subject  of  v/hich  he  ought  to  know  some- 
thing, answered  that  there  v.ere  some  few  lawyers  in  the  circuit 
who  wereniaking  a  living.  Lawwasa  mighty  hard  thing  to 
make  a  living  at.     He  had  been    trying  it  twenty-live  years 


HUMOROUS  TALES.  45 

and  better,  and  ought  to  know  how  hard  it  was.  There  was 
no  business  that  it  was  not  easiei-  to  make  monejat  tlian 
law.  If  he  had  his  time  to  go  over  again  he  hardly  thonght 
he  would  undertake  it.  Indeed,  he  knew  he  would  not  if  lie 
knew  what  a  young  man  had  to  go  through  with  the  lirst  five 
or  &ix  years.  Now,  Mr.  Sandidge  had  connneneed  the  prac- 
tice of  the  law  without  a  dollar,  and  with  not  even  a  good 
suit  of  clothes.  But  he  economized.  lie  liorrowed  money  at 
eight  percent,  and  shaved  paper  at  sixteen  and  twenty.  He 
went  to  every  Justices'  Court  in  the  county ;  learned  the 
name  of  every  man  in  it,  got  acquainted  with  every  man's  busi- 
ness, hunted  up  and  set  agoing  litigation,  iuitil]iere  he  was  in 
the  possession  of  at  least  forty  thousand  dollars.  And  though 
many  a  man  would  have  shrunk  from  what  Mr.  Sandidge  had 
to  go  through  with,  yet,  Mr.  Sandidge  told  a  story  whei)  he 
Raid  what  he  did.  lie  woukl  have  gone  through  with  it  a 
thousand  times  over.  For  next  to  the  money  which  he  had 
made  by  the  law,  he  loved  thcspyings  which  it  gave  opportu- 
nities to  make  into  the  secrets  of  his  neighboi'S,  their  silent 
struggles  with  suifermgs  and  embarrassments,  and  he  loved  yet 
more  the  influence  which  the  knowledge  thus  acquired  enabled 
him  to  exert  over  them.  But  it  was  not  his  wont  to  encourage 
young  lawyers.  Nobody  encouraged  liim,  he  reflected,  and 
let  them  encourage  themselves. 

'Yes,'  he  said,  'law  is  a  hard  thing  to  get  on  with.  There's  n 
P9wcr  of  books  to  read,  wdiich  requires  a  power  of  money  to 
buy ;  and  there  are  so  many  contrary  decisions  on  the  same  pints, 
and  the  practice  and  tlie  pleadings  are  so  hard  to  learn,  and 
then  a  man,  a  young  man,  has  so  often  got  to  speak  before  the 
Court,  where  everybody  is  watching  him,  and  whcji  he  don't 
know  sometimes  what  to  say,  when  a  pint  is  made  he  did'nt  ex- 
pect, and  aint  prepared  to  meet,  and  he  gets  embarrassed,  and 
sometimes  even  has  to  give  up  the  case,  and  be  non-suited. 
These  things,  as  I  said,  and  a  hea])  of  others  I  might  mention, 
makes  law^  a  hard  businass  to  follow.  But  some  men  do,  by 
hard  labor,  make  a livmg  by  it,  by  being  economical.  They 
say  in  Alabama,  and  down  in  South-western  Georgia,  it  is 
easier  to  get  along  with  it,  and  that  some  men  even ^malvc  for- 
tunes. Tliere  is  more  litigation  there,  and  not  so  much  compe- 
tition.    But,'  he  ended,  smiling   quite  encouragingly,  'it  may 

WeUVtoi-ecl'  tl^o  sufe;'l>u"l^mxte^-  n  '^^  profession'  is  pretty 

"  '^lorner.  von    know;' 


46  HirMOROUS   TALfca. 

andhebmilcd  almost  audibly,  and  with  such  satisfaction  at  this 
attempt  at  pleasantry,  that  Mr.  Mohley  laughed  at  it  heartily 
and  said : 

'And  Sandidge,  you  know  it  is  some  consolation  to  a  fellow  who  is 
getting  along  slowly  to  know  that  there  arc  others  who  are  at  no 
faster  pace  than  himself;  for  appropos  of  your  proverb  i.-^  the  one 
tiiat  misery  loves  company.' 

'Just  so,'  answered  Mr.  Sandidge,  and  at  this  moment  Mr.  "Parkin- 
son returned,  and  the  two  took  their  leave. 

When  they  were  on  their  way  home,  Mr.  Parkinson  asked  Over- 
ton how  he  liked  the  specimeyis  as  he  termed  his  new  acquaintances. 
The  latter  ans.wered  that  he  was  much  pleased  with  the  young 
man. 

And  yuu  arc  not  very  much  pleased  with  Sandidge,  I  suppose  ? 

'Why,  no,  I  cannot  say  that  I  am  greatly  prepossessed  in  his 
favor  ;  and  I  guess  he  returns  the  compliment,  as  he  discourages  my 
notion  to  practice  law.' 

'He  does,  docs  he  ?'  said  Mr.  Parkinson,  laughing.  "I  knew  he 
would  ;  and  though  I  am  much  of  his  opinion  in  regard  to  any 
young  man  who  can  do  anything  else,  yet  I  must  say  that  his  exam- 
ple is  encouraging.  He  very  well  illustrates  how  a  man  uf  little 
talent,  and  less  education,  can  grow  rich  and  even  attain  to  some 
eminence  at  the  bar.  Sandidge  is  certainly  a  queer  genius.  Twen- 
five  years  ago  everybody  laughed  at  him — the  Judge,  the  lawyers, 
the  juries,  and  the  people.  But  Sandidge  laughed  too  in  his  way, 
and  worked  every  day  and  night ;  and  somehow  he  got  into  prac- 
tice. Tlie  Judge  and  lawyers  came  at  last  to  respect  him,  the 
sheriffs  to  fear  him,  and  the  people  to  be  in  awe  of  him,  until  now 
he  has  made  a  fortune,  has  more  influence  witli  the  present  Judge, 
and  is  more  succes.sful  before  juries  than  any  lawyer  in  the  circuit. 
I  knew  he  would  attempt  to  discourage  you.  Ue  always  does.  I 
doubt  if  it  is  because  he  has  no  feeling,  but  because  it  gratifies  his 
vanity  to  exaggerate  those  obstacles  which  he  had  to  overcome,  and 
which  nobody  thought  he"  would.  And  Sandidge,  though  he  looks 
like  a  fool,  is  reallj-  a  pretty  good  lawyer.  There  are  men  infinitely 
his  superiors,  but  he  is  untiringly  industrious.  He  prepares  his  cases 
so  thoroughly,  and  hangs  to  them  so  doggedly,  and  studies  the  peo- 
ple so  constantly,  that  he  is,  I  repeat  it,  the  most  successful  prac- 
titioner I  know.  He  loves  the  law  ;  he  glories  in  it,  and  knows 
nothing  outside  of  it.' 

But  Rfr.  Mobley  ;  ho  is  certainly  a  man  of  real  talent  and  educa- 
tion.    Is  he  not  likely  to  succeed  V 

'Mobley  has  very  superior  talent  and  a  most  A'ii^'i^i.  ^.^HPJi^iRR- 
He  was  educated  by  an  ^}^^  Tk'Vis  executorVmouey  to  "enable 
legiate  life,  Icavincr  ••'  "-"^ 


HUMOROUS   TALES.  4T 

him  to  complete  his  course,  and  enter  his  professioij.  Ilis  parents 
both  died  when  he  was  a  child.  But  Mobley  shines  everywhere  ex- 
cept in  the  Court  room.  There  he  does  not  yet  seem  to  be  quite  at 
home.  I  have  heard  him  speak  once  or  twice,  and  he  certainly 
speaks  well.  But  Sandidge  worries  him  so  with  the  starting  of  un- 
expected issues  that  he  is  often  put  to  his  wit's  end.  If  he  could 
live  without  the  practice,  I  am  inclined  to  think  that,  notwithstand- 
ing his  pride,  he  would  abandon  it.  He  will  succeed  though  after 
a  while,  I  doubt  not,  if  he  will  persevere.  He  is  a  fellow  of  fine 
wit,  and  gores  Sandidge  badly  sometimes  when  •  he  can  reach  him, 
which  is  not  often  the  case,  with  this  weapon.  But  Sandidge  only 
smiles,  and  almost  always  gives  things  a  turn  v>'hich  is  sure  to  give 
him  the  best  of  it  at  last.' 

'D©  you  usually  have  much  business  in  the  Courts  ?' 

'And  if  so,  which  of  these  men  do  I  employ  to  attend  to  it,  you 
would  ask.  Well,'  continued  Mr.  Parkinson,  somewhat  apologeti- 
cally, 'what  little  I  have  do  in  that  way,  I  usually  give  to  Sandidge. 
I  have  known  him  a  long  time,  and  he  has  always  seemed  to  act  au 
honest  part  towards  me.  Besides,  a  man,  you  know,  does  not 
usually  like  to  change  the  channel  of  his  business.' 

Mr.  Par>:iis)n  did  not  have  the  heart,  after  what  1^  had  said  of 
Mr.  Sandidgcs  influence  with  the  presiding  Judge,  to  give  that  as 
another  rea.sou  for  retaining  him. 

The  young  man  said  nothing  ;  but  he  thought  with  himself  that, 
hard  as  it  was  on  a  poor  fellow  like  MobTey,  it  was  natural.  And 
is  it  the  less  hard  because  it  is  natural  that  the  world  will  delay  t< » 
give  help  to  a  man  in  any  business  of  life  until,  by  long  toiling  and 
striving  alone,  he  has  at  last  reached  a  point  where  he  can  live 
without  it  ?  Yet,  such  is  the  way  of  life.  You  man  with  many 
clients,  and  many  more  friends,  has  there  not  been  a  time  when 
nineteen  of  every  twenty  of  those  whom  you  now  value 
the  most  highly  would  have  forborne  to  lend  you  a  h-  Ining 
hand,  but  would  have  waited  until  they  had  seen  whether  by  the 
aid  of  the  few  who  did  stand  by  you,  you  were  likely  to  rise  or  to 
fall  ?  Let  us  not  then  fall  out  with  what  is  natural  in  our  fellow 
men,  and  what  our  very  selves  would  do,  and  what  we  actually  do, 
because  it  is  natural  to  us.  Wo  would  spare  ourselves  many  an 
uncomfortable  feeling  of  contempt,  for  the  infirmities  of  human  na- 
ture as  we  see  them  illustrated  in  the  lives  of  our  neighbors,  if  we 
wonld  but  reflect  that,  what  is  more  often  thai)  otherwise  the  case 
with  us,  we  would  act  in  the  aame  circuinstancea  just  as  they  do. 
Aflk  yourself,  0  !  best  of  men,  how  many  young  men  are  there  in 
.  any  profession  whom  you  so  cordially  wish  to  prosper  in  it,  that 
you  would  be  willing  to  take  any  ofyour  business  out  of  its  old  tried 
chMinel — a  channel  fo  freighted  with  yours  and  other  people's  bus- 


48  nc>fORor5  tales. 

incfs  tkat  it  would  not  miss  the  littJe  you  take  from  it — and  risk  it 
in  tLcir  care  until  thej  have  proved  that  the  consignment  will  b«  ;» 
sale  one?  Or  if  you  sometimes  do  this,  is  it  not  done  a  little  slyly,  and 
do  you  not  feel  like  apologizing^,  and  when  discovered,  do  you  not 
actually  apologize  to  the  old  channel,  and  tell  how  trilling  was  the 
freight  you  have  taken  from  it,  and  how  you  .supposed  it  would  not 
care  to  be  pestered  with  such  a  small  matter?  Yes,  and  the  old 
channel  says  it  makes  no  difference,  and  that  it  is  ail  right:  but 
then  you  feel  as  if  it  was  not  all  right,  and  as  if  you  had  injured  the 
old  channel,  and  you  go  to  work  straightway,  ami  ship  a  whole 
boat  load  on  it  at  once. 

CHAPTER  III. 

•Cau't  wc  get  through  witli  the  docket  by  Friday  night  ! 

'There's  business  enough  ha.-  to  occupy  the  whole  week  and  more 
too.     You'll  have  to  .<;it  an  adj.  urned  term  lo   get   through  with  it.' 

•I  shall  do  no  such  thin^-  :  and  what  is  more,  I  shall  adjourn  the 
( 'ourt  Friday  night.' 

Mr.  Sandidge  smiled  witii  wonted  complacency.  '1  don't  think 
wo  can  hardly  get  to  the  Appeal  before  Wednesday  dinner  ;  aud  it 
looks  like  a  pity  but  what  some  of  them  cases  that's  bt  cu  continued 
so  long  could  Ife  tried.  Wc  lawyers  ain't  like  judge.-  to  gu  and 
draw  our  salaries  every  three  months,  but  liave  to  wait  until  the 
cases  are  dispo-sed  of,  and  sometime.*  a  long  time  getting  thotn 
Ihen.' 

This  excellent  joke  put  him  on  u  broad  grin.  The  judge  did  not 
.seem  to  appreciate  it  much,  though  he  smiled  in  f^iut  commenda- 
tion. He  was  fifty  years  old,  twenty-five  of  which  had  been  spent 
in  the  practice  of  the  law  in  which  he  had  risen  to  a  fourth  rank. 
As  a  set-ofl"  to  this  professional  eminence,  he  had  remained  as  he 
hud  begun,  poor  in  puisc.  Tiurc  years  before  this  an  election  was 
being  held  for  the  office  r,l  judge  cf  the  Superior  Court  of  that  cir- 
cuit. Let  us  remember  that  at  thattimc  the  judge  ot  the  Superior 
(-'ourt  was  the  only  higli  judicial  officer  in  the  circuit.  He  was  botk 
, judge  and  chancellor.  His  discretion  was  uncontrolled  and  uncon- 
trollable in  all  cases  regarding  the  .security,  the  property,  aud  repu- 
tation of  citizens  ;  and  even  his  construction  of  the  Constitution  of 
ihc  State  was  unalterable  by  any  human  power,  Three  years  be- 
fore, politics  hiid  taken  one  of  its  tnrns,  and  the  party  t^.  which  the 
iburth-rato  lawyer  of  twcnty-iivc  year's  practice  belonged,  unexpect- 
edly found  itself  with  a  small  majority  in  the  legislature.  The  in- 
cumbent of  the  Bench,  being  a  member  of  the  minority,  was  of  course 
to  share  its  fate  and  retire  from  office-  There  were  two  prominent  can- 
didates from  the  party  in  power  ;  <me  a  retired  member  of  Congress 
who  was  finding  it  difficult  to  recover  the  practice  which  he  had 
given  up  fifteen  years  before,  and  the  other  a  man"  of  ten  years  I'on- 


KJMOKOU!?   TALKS.  4^ 

Qcction  with  the  profession,  of  very  promigiog talents,  and  of  a  gooal 
propcrtj,  who  sought  the  office  for  the  eclat,  and  the  po>Ter  which  it 
would  confer  upon  him.  Several  ballots  had  been  made  without  an 
election.  Mr.  Elam  Sandidgc,  for  certain  reasons  of  his  own,  had 
consented  to  represent  his  county  in  the  Senate,  and  was  one  of  the 
party  in  minority.  A  more  amused  man  it  way  seldom  any  one's 
privilege  to  sec  than  was  he  when  on  the  repeated  counting  out  of 
the  votes  the  presiding-  officer  announced  that  there  had  been  no 
election.  He  looked  to  this  and  to  that  one  on  either  side  of  the 
house,  and  went  about  whispering  to  some  and  winking-  at  others. 

'What  is  that  dirty  old  rascal  doing' on  our  side  of  the  aisle  ?''iQ 
quired  a  majority  member  of  his  neighbor. 

'I  can't  tell  :  but  some  rascality  brings  liim  here*  you  may  swear 
to  that.'  " 

"While  the  votes  were  being  counted  out  for  the  fifth  time,  Mr. 
Sandidgc  walked  quickly  over  to  that  side.  A  dozen  anxious,  piti- 
ful looking-  members  gathered  around  him. 
'Put  him  up  next !  put  him  up  next  time!'  he  said,  and  walked  back 
again,  taking  in  with  a  sweeping  winK  the  whole  of  his  own  party. 
When  the  result  was  announced,  and  directions  given  to  prepare  fo'.- 
another  balloting,  'Mr.  President,  Mr.  President,'  screamed  a  voice 
from  the  majority  side,  '1  announce  the  name  ofLittleberry  "VV.  Mike, 

Esq  ,  from  the  coxmty  of -.     This  announcement  was  followed 

by  roar.s  of  laughter  from  the  minority  and  by  hisses,  and  cries  of 
'who  is  he  ?'  from  the  other.  Immediately,  however,  the  leaders  of 
both  were  busy  as  bees.  Threats  and  criminations  were  heard 
among  the  friends  of  the  two  prominent  candidates^  then  entreaties 
from  both  to  the  opposition.  'Take  him  down,  for  Heaven's  sake.' 
'It  is  a  shame  by  blood.'  'Don't  put  him  on  us,  if  you  please.'  'Any 
body  else,'  &c.  All  |o  no  purpose.  Tiie  nominee  was  elected  on 
the  next  ballot. 

'Why,  how  did  you  get  elected,  Bcriy  ?"  slyly  askad  Mr.  San- 
didge  of  the  judge  elect,  as  on  the  dispersion  of  the  members  he  met 
him,  trembling  and  pale  as  a  corpse,  at  the  foot  of  the  gallery,  and 
shook  his  cold  hand.  'It  appears  like  you  must  have  got  some 
votes  from  our  side  of  the  houst-.'  The  newly  elected  pressed  the 
hand  of  his  friend,  and  they  went  together  to  the  hotel,  on  the  way 
to  which  he  was  forced  to  hear  from  among  the  crowd  many  a  bittci- 
jest  of  which  he  was  tLc  subject. 

This  election  was  an  instanoe  of  that  miserable  policy  yet  adhered 
to,  by  which  minorities,  in  order  to  render  majorities  odious,  do  not 
hesitate  to  contribute  all  they  can  to  make  them  do  the  greatest 
amoimt  of  harm  to  public  interests.  Men  may  say  what  they  will 
of  caucuses,  but  until  there  is  a  higher  standard  of  public  and  pri- 
vate virtue  amongst  us.  they  will  be  indispensable 


oO  HUMOKOUS   TALES. 

Wlien  a  man  of  inferior  parts  is  raise'l  to  ,iu  nfficc  ofgrt  ;i  aulUor- 
ity,  lie  is  apt,  unless  lie  has  grr^at  virtue,  and  very  ainialil<.'  disposi- 
tions,  to  exert  that  authority,  as  far  as  Ip  compatible  with  safety,  in 
enforcing  a  regard  which  those  parts  have  ben  inadeijuate  to  se- 
cure. Cowardly  as  this  is,  it  is  not  more  in jurious  to  truth,  and  jus- 
tice, and  reason,  than  when  such  a  man  i.s  led  by  such  an  elevation 
to  look  upon  himself  as  having  been  heretofore  depreciated,  and  to 
consider  the  elevation,  whatever  were  the  circumstances  which  af- 
fected it,  as  the  decree  of  infinite  justice  in  his  favor,  determining  at 
last  to  give  merit  its  just  reward.  Sometimes  he  is  in  one,  and  some- 
times in  the  other  of  these  two  states  alternately  ;  never  being  able 
to  determine  exactly  whether  he  ought  to  occupy  his  position  or 
not,  but  ever  attempting  t'>  resolve  the  doubt  b^  such  a  vigorous 
exercise  of  authority  as  wiil  at  least  foreclose  all  doubts  in  tho  minds 
of  others  as  to  his  actual  possession  of  it.  Of  such  a  character  was 
the  newly  el cct:?d  judge.  He  had  long  had  his  heart  set  upon  tho 
bench.  lie  louked  up  to  it  as  a  mighty  eminence — mighty  enough 
to  satisfy  the  most  eager  ambition.  Yet  his  desires  were  not  ac- 
tuated wholly  by  ambition.  He  wanted  the  salary.  He  needed  it. 
He  was  poor  and  had  a  family  ;  and  pitiful  as  tho  salary  was,  it  vraa 
twice  as  mach  as  ho  made  by  his  practice.  Ashamed  as  he  was  to 
know  how  the  people  regarded  the  notion  of  his  being  Judge  of  the 
Superior  Court,  he  mover,  even  for  one  moment,  gave  up  his  desire 
to  become  ."^o,  but  kept  himself  alv^  ays,  yet  in  a  quiet  way,  in  candi- 
dacy for  it.  And  though  to  the  leading  members  of  the  bar  he  had 
never  presumed  to  speak  of  the  matter,  knowing  that  he  would  bo 
laughed  at  if  he  did,  they  yet  well  knew  wl)at  his  thoughts  and 
his  hoi)es  were.  Nor  had  he  publicly  announced  his  candidacy  at 
the  meeting  of  the  Legislature.  He  knew  well  that  his  only  chance 
of  election  dej>endcd  upo:i  the  fact,  whether  true  or  false,  it  made  no 
material  diflerciici'  with  liim,  that  he  was  considered  the  weakest  and 
shabbiest  of  the  candiilatcs  of  his  party.  While  the  prominent  ones 
of  these  were  making  interest  with  the  leaders  of  the  party  in  the 
Legisl^tnre,  he  hail  quietly,  an<l  in  a  way  known  only  to  himself  and 
them,  and  very  probably  to  Mr.  Sandidg(>,  obtained  the  promise  of 
assistance  from  a  few  unknown  members  who  should  be  able,  by 
scattering,  their  votes  under  the  direction  of  him  and  Mr.  Sandidge, 
to  defeat  the  election  of  any  one  until  a  suitable  opportunity  should 
occur  for  the  name  to  be  presented.  Wc  have  seen  with  what  re- 
sult this  was  done. 

With  the  recollection  of  all  the  circumstances,  Judge  Mike 
thanked  two  objects  for  his  elevation  :  first,  his  own  lucky  genius, 
and  secondly,  Mr.  .Sandidge.  IJe  was,  doubtless,  quite  inclined  to 
indulge  in  kindly  and  grateful  feeling  towards  the  latter  from  habit ; 
for  he   was   under  a  pecuniary  indebtedness  to  him  of  several  hun- 


HUMOROUS  TALES.  51 

♦lied dollars  imdcr  a  writ  of  fieri  facia«  which  Mr.  Saadidgc,  fchrco 
•  i-  four  years  before,  had  been  kind  enough  to  'lift,'  to  have  trans- 
lerrcd  to  himself,  and  to  forbear  enforcing  payment  thereof  in  con- 
sideration of  sixteen,  which  he  called  a  living  per  centum  of  inte- 
rest. What  sacrifices  tlic  indulgent  creditor  was  always  making, 
when  at  every  renewal  of  the  note  for  the  extra  interest,  he  solemn- 
ly avowed  hia  need  of  the  money,  and  of  his  subm  ssi  n  to  go  with 
out  it  for  no  earthly  reason  than  to  oblige  his  friends  !  On  that 
friend's  accession  to  the  Bench,  wlicn  first  they  wero  alone  together, 
he  took  the  last  note  of  renewal  from  his  pocket  book,  and  handed 
it  to  him  without  saying  a  word.  The  judge,  appearing  surprised, 
Mr.  Sandidgc,  with  smiling  solemnity,  protested  that  he  never  could 
exact  usurious  interest  from  a  Judge  of  the  Superior  Court  of  the 
State  of  Georgia.  He  hoped  he  had  too  much  respect  for  the  digni- 
ty of  the  office  to  do  any  such  thing  as  that.  The  judge,  after  fee- 
ble remonstration,  took  the  note,  looked  at  it,  sighed,  and  tearing  it 
slowly  to  pieces,  felt  already  one  of  those  palpitating  and  almost 
painful  joys  which  only  men  in  office  have.  It  was  a  small  matter, 
but  it  touched  him,  for  his  means  were  small,  and  ho  felt  as  if  hencc- 
lorth  he  could  live. 

l>ut  to  return  to  the  conversation  with  wiiicli  this  chapter  began, 
:ind  which  took  place  in  the  judge's  room  at  the  hotel,  on  the  Sunday 
night  before  the  sitting  of  the  court. 

'How  does  that  smart  chap  Moblcy  get  on ';" 

'About like  he  was.' 

'Knowing  everything  but  law,  I  suppose,  and  knowing  nothing 
1  bout  that?' 

Must  so.  The  follow  studies  like  rip  ,  but  judge,  he  don't 
study  right.     He  studies  books  instead  of  men.' 

Mr.  Sandidgc  delivered  this  sentiment  with  contemptuous  pity. 

'He  thinks  if  we  had  a  Supremo  Court  In  would  do  something 
grand.' 

'lie's  ff)r  a  Supreme  Court,  is  ho?'  incjuiivMl  the  Judge,  with  a 
frown.  • 

'Warm,  warm,     lias  boon  tiom  llio  lirst.' 


02  HnffOKOrS    TALES. 

'It  TTi!)  bo  some  :  mo  before  ho  pora  it  I'm  thinking/ 

'ThM's  wlinti  tell  hJra.l 

'Tliank  God,  it's  only  those  book  men  tliat  want  a  Supreme 
C  Hit.  They  don't  know,  Sandidgc,  they  don't  know  anything  out- 
c  Ja  of  books.' 

'Not  the  first  thing.    That's  what  I  tell  'cm.' 

'Th.ey  think  that  bccniiac  such  a  pint  has  been  decided  such  a 
way,  by  sv.ch  a  jndg-o,  that  it  phould  be  decided  so  always  ;  und 
tlicy  are  forever  and  eternally  talking  about  i;ettling  tho  law,  eel* 
tiiiig  the  law — ^likc  it  was,  Sandidgr; — ^just  like  it  was  so  much  cof- 
fee-.'   • 

^fr.  Sindfdge  spat  all  orcr  himself,  wiped  his  mouth  with  his  hand, 
and  camo  very  near  laughing  outright. 

'And  I  would  like  to  know  how,  in  the  name  of  coaotnon  cenBe, 
it  over  could  get  settled.  There  aint  any  thing  to  settle  it  by. 
That's  tho  pint ;  there  aint  any  thing  to  settle  it  by.'  He  looked 
cnqniripf'''^  ^t  ^Tr.  Sandidge,  and  .'•cemcd  to  wish  that  gentleman  to 
te'.l  what  there  was  tu  settle  it  by  u' ho  know  of  any  such  thing. 
Tiie  latter  Kl»Of)k  his  head. 

'Xo  sir!  there  aiot  nothing  to  .settle  it  by-  and  whon  Mobley  is 
t.-vlkhig  about  what  Lord  Mansfield  said,  and  what  Lord  Hiirdwick 
B.-i'd,  or  any  of  them  old  lords  -.lud  judges,  it's  on  the  end  of  my 
tongur>  to  stop  him,  and  tell  him  that  they  are  all  dead,  and  conse- 
quently can't  know,  any  thing  about  t'lio  case  at  bar.  And,  San- 
d;d;.^o," it  always  struck  mo  hi  very  euiijus  tliat  the  law-- of  Eng- 
land iji'.ould  be  the  laWa  ofGeorgi. 

It  was  a  remarkable  coincidciue  tiiat  tliat  idea  had  over  and 
over  ngaia  struck  Mr.  Saudidgo.  He,  however,  hinted,  that  in 
some  case.s,  (and  tho.se  were  cases  in  his  opinion  when  tho  authoi^ty 
happened  to  bo  on  his  own  side,)  where  the  English  law  wos  very 
p'o'nand  directly  in  point,  .indit  ought  to  be  followed.' 

'Certainly,    certainly,   in  such  cases  :  and  I  do  follow  it  ;  but  1 
:n  tho  judge  of  that  myself ' 

'Ah  !  yes — that  was  right !     Now    they    were    exactly    agreed 
The  judge,  if  he   wa.s  judge,  of  course,  ought  to  be  tho  jitdge.     If  he 


HUMOEOTTS   TALES.  53 

wasn't,  of  course,  he  couldn't  be,  which  was  absurd  ;'  and  Mr.  San  ' 
didge   almost  frowned  in  the  effort  of  elaborating  this  reductio  ad. 
absurdum. 

'Absurd — so  I  think ;  and  Mobley  and  such  as  ho  may  study  their  eyes  out 
for  mc.  When  they  T3ring  up  law  that  I  think  is  right,  I  shall  sustain  them; 
when  I  don't  think  so  1  shall  overrule  them.  They  may  get  their  Supremo 
Court  if  they  can.  It  aint  going  to  be  in  my  day,  thank  God.  If  it  was,  I 
just  know  that  1  couldn't  and  wotildn't  sta|nd  it.  Before  I  would  have  an 
overseer  over  me,  and  I  judge  of  the  Superior  Court,  and  have  to  be  etcnfally 
looking  inti:>  old  books  to  ifind  out  what  them  old  English  lords  and  judges 
said  a  huiidrod  years  ago,  when  the  country  wasn't  like  this,  nor  tlie  people 
neither — why  Sandidge  you  know  I  havn't  got  the  books,  and  couldn't  afford 
to  buy  them — I  say  before  I  would  be  put  to  all  the  trouble  and  expense  of  " 
reading  law  and  nothing  else,  and  then  have  my  decisions  brought  back  on  mo, 
and  treated  like  I  was — like  I  was  in  fact  a  nigger — I  would  die  first.' 

Mr.  Sandidge  smiled  approvingly. 

'Why,  who  would  respect  me  ?' 

'Nobody.' 

'How  could  I  enforce  the  authority  of  the  Court  ?' 

'Couldn't  be  done.' 

'If  I  put  a  fellow  in  jail  just  Mk)  as  not  they  would  taka  him  out. ' 

'Like  as  not.' 

'If  I  fined  one,  ten  to  one  it  wouldn't  stiok.' 

'Just  80.     He  wouldn't  stay  found.' 

'If  I  refused  to  grant  a  new  trial,  knowing  that  I  am  against  tliem,  they 
would  send  a  paper  ordering  me  to  grant  it.  Don't  you  see  they  would 
knowing  I  am  against  'em  ?' 

'Plain  as  day.     Send  a  paper  ordei ing  the  Judge  of  the  Superior  Cjuit  1' 

'I  tell  you,  Sandidge,  before   I   would  stand  it,  I  would  die  firat.  In  fact,  I 

would  BESIQX  !  I'  i 

This  was  capping  the  climax.  Dying  would  be  a  poor  and  very  inade- 
quate resentment.  He  would  go  beyond  that.  He  would  voluutiU-i'.y  and 
disgustedly  let  go  his  hold  upon  power.  The  conscquonceiS  might  bo  ^^■b.^t 
they  pleased,  he  would  resign.  'I  tell  j'ou,  Sandidge,'  he  vcjicatcd  once  ir.orc, 
with  fearful  empha.sis,  'I  should  bksigk  !!' 

Mr.  Sandidge,  although   purposing  to  appear  alarmed,   s....    ^   ■-  - '■' 

standing  ;  and  perhaps  the  moro  because  he  thought  such  a  <leplorablo  evcM, 
not  very  likely  to  come  to  pas.j;  and  pcrh.ips  yet  more,  because  it  instant, y 
ocaarrod  to  him  that  if  it  ever  should,  ho  wjuld  consolo  hiaiielf  in  ths  luiilsi 


5^  \:    nOEtFS  TALES. 

m , 

of  hiji  OWH  luht^-ft  jiiiu  _ri<  I  ;j.  \  .  .<  hr;  could  by  i'  i>i  uini;  the  c.Mia  iiiui'  -t 
iilK)n  the  Fi  FA  not  yet  paid  ol;  ....d  disch;irgcd. 

'AjuI  what  will  yon  leading  lawyers  do  when  youuu  men,  smart  young  nii  n 
like  Mobleyj-jo  before  tlir  Sin,r.>!iv  ('  .ml  witli  1"  •^.  i  ■.  tlieir  h.inils  nnd  (nin 
you  down  ?' 

'I  shan't  livelu  »(.■(,■  u,  aiMi  u  u.i.>  ci'Miiiiii, -a  the  jiin.-pcci  <>i  :i  Mr  tiislaiii 
organization  of  such  a  tribiuial,  rather  than  of  his  own  early  decease,  which 
gave  the  gratified  and  complacent  expression  to  that  bniiliug  couutcnanc*. 

CIIAPTEll  IV. 

Overton  attended  the  Court,  and  obtained,  by  the  assistance  of  Mr.  Moblcy, 
u  seat  within  thi    bar.     lie  had  been  introduced  to  several  lawyers  from  dif- 
ferent counties  witliiji  the  cirtniit.  and  to  the  judge.     On   his   introduction  to 
the  latter,  he  remarked  a  ccrtaui  ungainly  attempt  at  a  congratulation  on  his 
expected   accession   to  the   profos.sion,   which  was  anything  else  but  cordial. 
.Mobley  had  spoken  of  him  to  the  other  lawyers,   in   the  judge's  hearing,  as  a 
young   man  of  education  and  genius,  when  Mr.  Sandidge,  who  was  sitting  by 
him  at  the   time,  whispered  that  tliat  was  the  sort  of  ukmi  who  were  always 
talking  about  a  Supreme  Court.     After  this,  Uis  Honor   took   no  further  no- 
tice of  him.     During  the  week,  he  noticed   what   was  new  to  him,  how  much 
of  an  art  it  was  to  conciliate  and  to  control   the   Court.     It  was  evident  that 
Mr.  Sandidge  was  the  favorite.     Every  body  knew  that.     Mr.  Sandidge  him- 
self,   who   had    long    foreseen   and  fore-ordained  it.     Of  all  positions  in  a  free 
government,  where  favoritism  is  worth  having,   it   was   that  of  a  favorite  cir- 
cuit judge  of  Georgia  in  the  old  times.     \Vlien  the  fortunes  of  men,  their  secu- 
rity, and  sometimes  even  their  lives  were  dependant  uj)on  the  will  of  an  indi- 
vidual,  and   that  individu.il  amenable   to   no  e.;irthly  tribunal  for  whatev<'r 
errors   he  might   conunit,  or  even  for  his  wickedness,  except  upon  princij>le!' 
the  most  vague  and  uncertain,  it  wa«  an  art  ranking  as  high  as  the  pcienc(!  o' 
1  lie  law  itself,  and  attainable  by  graaler   cost  and   sacrifice,  to  obtaui  an  easy 
and  successful  access    to  the   vat  of   that    most    important  depositary  of 
power.     They  were  the  fortunate  accidents   of  our   ancient  judiciary  .«;ystom, 
that  tlicre  Wiis  a  goodly  number  of  virtuous  ami  talented  men  upon  llie  bench  ; 
for  neither   virtue  iior  any  very  considerable  amoimt  of  talent  were  e,sscntial 
qualifications.     If  the  occupant  for  the  time  being  possessed  tlioin,  very  well. 
If  not,  then  not  so  well,  yet  well  enough. 

The  present  occupant,  we  have  seen,  had  no  uncommon  taleirts.  In  vir- 
tue, he  was  neither  j;ood  nor  bad.  At  leaat,  ho  was  ineapablo  of  brilxiry.  If 
he  was  below  Ihf  «ap:u  ilv  I  -fei'I  I'M.,  nnder^tand    ;i    noble   impl'lse,   liewa' 


HUMOKOL^.    TALK!?.  S^/ 

.th<)\fc  tliat  of  pi'ipctratinp;  ;m  act  of  plain  clislj(juc.sty.  In  lalcnt  atid-in  viv-  • 
t uc,  bo  miglit  bo  said  to  have  dccnpied  a  middle  state  between  high  and  low, 
I  Hit  tending  downwards.  Fuitnnatcly  for  some,  inifortnnatcly  for  others,,  he 
was  not  brave.  Now,  of  all  oflicial  personages,  cowards  are  the  most  trouble- 
sdracand  oppress!  re.  They  arc  troublesome  to  those  of  whom  they  arc 
afraid,  and  oppressive  to  those  who  are  afraid  of  them;  troublesome  to  the 
fiirmcr  by  inflicting  petty  annoyances,  in  the  use  of  small  advantages,  and 
the  punishment  of  unimportant  lapses  in  remembrances,  and  in  resentment  of 
(he  pain  they  feel  on  account  of  such  persons;  oppressive  to  the  latter  in  or- 
licr  to  preserve  the  equilibrium  between  the  feeling  and  the  excitement  of  fear 
Tliis  quality  is  not  peculiar  to  oflicial  nureven  to  human  cowards.  Instance 
canine.  I  once  saw  in  the  city  of  Millodgcville,  one  cur  badly  bitten  and  con- 
cpicrcd  in  single  combat  with  anothc  ■.  Inuuediately  afterwards,  as  with  his 
talc  shrunk  between  his  hind  legs,  ho  n\..  i  making  for  home  with  what  speed 
lio  c<:)uld  employ,  ho  spicil  one  of  those  <logs  commonly  denominated  amongst 
ns  as  ficc,  wlicreupon his  tail  at  onceoanio  out  to  its  natural  suspension;  he 
rushed  upon  the  little  animal,  and  without  any  known  justifiable  cause,  mid. 
even  without  any  previous  acquaintance  with  liini,  caught  him  by  the  throat 
and  .shook  him  until  he  was  beaten  off  with  rods.  After  he  had  gotten  out  of 
the  reach  of  these,  he  went  on  his  way  leisurely,  apparently  satisfied  tliat  he 
was  agiCin  even  with  the  world. 

Mr.  Sandidge  was  the  fiivorito.  The  judge  liked  him  nut  only  for  past  fa- 
vors of  the  kind  wc  knew  of,  but  for  another  reason,  lie  thought  Mr.  San- 
didge a  man  hkc  himself  and  about  his  cpinlity;  and,  therefore,  he  liked  to 
ill)  honor  to  himself  as  it  were  in  honoring  his  image.  Mr.  Sandidge  made  no 
L^rcat  pretension  to  a  knowledge  of  books,  and  he  thanked  him  for  that.  He 
never  even  hinted  aboiit  a  Supreme  Court,  but  seemed  to  be,  as  in  fact  he 
was,  satislicd  with  the  way  of  the  present  admin istratiou  of  justice.  Such 
liring  the  relations  Ijctwecn  them,  Mr.  Sandidge  was  lucky  in  getting  rulings 
in  his  favor.  lie  was  in  fact  a  much  better  lawyer  than  the  judge,  and 
shrcwcd  enough  to  beguile  him  of  many  a  wrong  decision,  even  had  he  been 
different  to  him. 

But,  notwithstanding  this  favoritism,  there  were  two  or  three  lawyers  ol 
real  ability  who,  in  spite  of  their  contempt  of  him  and  lii.s  dislike  of  them,  ex- 
ercised over  him  that  influence  which  a  strong  and  bold  intellect  will  always 
exert  over  a  weak  and  timid  one.  Above  flattering  him,  they  often,  and  even 
against  Mr.  Sandidge,  obtained  rulings  of  doubtful  right,  when  ho  was  un- 
able, out  of  his  dread  of  their  unconcealed  conteniiit,  to  resist  them.  But  to 
♦compensate  Mr.  Sandidge  for  such  a.s  tliis,  and  to  preserve  Gis  own  regard  for 


50  nTMonora  tale*. 

himself,  be  «Ag«rly  tongbt  for  opportunitief  to  help  him  in  taking  adrantage 

of'""  \dinfs  Rnd  in  pr.,of;  ovtrsighla  which  Mr.  Sandidge  him- 

?^..     -  -  -I.     The  latter  wiis,  in  additioQ,  graciously  allowed  to  dom- 

ioeer  to  any  extent  over  the  younger  lawyors.  They  stood  in  great  awe  of  the 
beach.    They  could  neither  en'  '  'w-hoat.    Even  a  respectful  rcmon- 

8tr.-.nce  from  tV^,-,  was  u?n  .  d   by  n  fim.ur  a  threatof  it.     Tliey, 

liicrcforo,  tin.'  .  s.s  in  the  Court,  hoping  for  the  com- 

i-iT-Z  ofthc  dny .,,.,..  '.r^'W-beaters  of  Saudidgcs. 

Like  most  i>iuall-miDdod  men  ^Oio  go  upon  the  bench,  this  judge  set  him- 
se'f  up  for  ft  prjat  reformer  of  abu.-.  He  was  a  terror  to  evil  doers  ;  eape- 
ci.illy  to  tho.se  who  did  it  on  a  sin.i!!  .s'^alc.  Whenever  he  got  a  chance  he  was 
woQt  tostick  the  law  on  tothcm  (t»  uae  his  own  phrase)  up  to  the  very  hilt. 
Then:  were  two  vices  in  particular  which  ho  hated  cordially.  They  were 
fighting  and  usury.  Whenever  l:.-  could  get  a  blow  at  either  of  thcfic.  he 
struck  it  with  all  his  official  mi'^'l.t.  Mr.  Sandidge  well  knew  his  weakness 
on  the  subject  of  usury,  aud  3uaiia;,'eil  so  'as  to  have  uo  cases  of  his  own,  Im 
confined  his  financial  operations  (•<  shaving  paper.  And  yet  he  wa.s  lucky 
enough  to  make  rnorc  out  of  usuric>usi  transactions  than  ho  was  accustomed 
to  when  he  loaned  out  his  own  inoDoy.  Fur  now  the  pleadiug  of  usury  had  be- 
come common,  and  there  was  ny  lawyer  who  could  compare  with  him  iii  fer- 
reting testimony  to  establish  its  proof. 

Of  the  younger  lawyers.  Mt.  Moblcy  wiu»  an  exception  so  far  as  to  the 
standing  in  any  awe  of  the  judge.  He  wa.s  usually  very  much  cmbarra."««d  in 
the  man:Agcmcnt  of  his  casci-,  because  ofhia  apprehension  of  being  cast  by  the 
starting  of  some  unforeseen  difficulty,  as  was  often  the  case  from  the  want  of 
faniiliarity  with  precedents  and  fnim  .  Iloro  was  Mr.  fiandidge's  forte.  He 
ur.ilcrstood  pleading  and  the  ni''  ""practice  thoroughly,  aud  it  wus  his  de- 
li{;"it  to  pick  flaws  in  hisailvc  rg,  and  drive  him  uut  of  court.     Mr. 

M'jbley  was  afraid  of  him  cu  t  Is,  and  well  ho  might  be;  but  other- 

wis3  he  was  iiwenaible  to  fear.  ;  'le  were  generally  iu  great  ueed  of  the 

court.     Hoi'c was  whel^  he  ci I  >r  :it  hix  ploasuro.    Tbey  should  feel 

li  I  power.     All  abionccs  of  ..  ad  jurors,  all  noises  in  the  court  room 

and  C;'urt  yard,  all  misdemeanors  vi  all  -sorts,  met  with  ready  aud  couiiigii 
ptm'shincnt:  always  the  more  condicrii  wheu  their  convictions  came  en  shortly 
nft?r  a  series  of  browbeatings  from  those  wliom  he  could  not  frighten.  One 
morr.inB4i"''n;rlhe  progress  of  a  trial  iu  which  his  patience  had  beoi.  sorely  tried 
a  man  in  the  crowd  near  the  bar  having  a  cold  blew  his  nose — an  action 
natural  and  ncceesary  to  the  preservation  of  whatever  aiyouut  of  comfort  Is 
couiistent  with  thr.t  ailment.     The  ".'■*"  •"  ♦i'-  instance  v.- as  accompanied  by 


HrMOEOTIS   TALES.  67 

the  usual  loudnesss  of  sound  produced  by  those  who  hrve  uncommonly  goo  J 
lungs. 

'Mr.  Sheriff  bring  that  nosc-blowcr  within  the  bar.' 

The  culprit  was  brought  in. 

'Is  this  court  a  stable,  sir,  that  j-ou  must  bray  in  it  like  a  jackass  ?' 

The  unhappy  man  answered  the  question  respectfully  and  caudidiy  in  th3 
Qegative. 

'What  do  you  bray  in.it.  for  then,  sir 

'I  did'nt  br — .     I  did'nt  know  I  Ava^  ii  brayin  in  it  jedgc.     i  only  blo\rcd 
my  nose,  liavin  of  a  bad  cold.' 

'What  are  yon  doing  here  any  way,  srr  ?' 

'I  jest  come  to  court,  sir.' 

'Got  any  business  here  ?' 

'No,  sir.' 

'What  did  you  come  for,  then?' 

'Why.  I  thought,  jpdge,  that  everybody  was  liable  to  come  to  court.' 

'Liable,  liable!  yes,  and  so  are  they  liable  to  behave  themselves;  and  if 
;hey  don't,  they  are  liable  to  be  fined.     What  is  your  name,  sir  ?' 

'AHen  Thigpen,  sir.' 

'Thigpen,  Thigpen  I  I  might  have  known  that  any  body  by  that  name 
could'nt  tell  a  court  room  from  a  stable.  Mr.  Thigpen  you  are  fined  in 
the  sum  of  two  dollars.' 

Mr.  Thigpen  ran  his  hand  into  his  pocket,  and  drawing  out  a  dirty  buckskin 
purse,  emptied  it,  and  counting  the  pieces  with  a.rueful  face,  walked  up  two 
or  three  of  the  steps,  and  extending  his  hand  to  the  jedge.  Dollar  onc-nnd- 
nine  is  the  highth  of  what  I  could  raise  if  I  was  going  to  be  hung.'        , 

Now,  whether  from  looking  upwards  at  so  resplendent  a  luiniuary  as  tho 
judge,  or  from  the  violence  of  his  cold,  wc  could  not  say;  but,  as  His  Honcr 
was  gazing  upon  tlie  extended  hand  in  ludicitius  surprise  and  wrath,  Mr. 
Thigjien  felt  a  suddcji  impulse  to  sneeze — an  irapuli^e  which,  v,-he^iever  it 
comes,  in  court  rooms  or  elsewhere,  must  be  obeyed.  He  made  herculean 
efforts  to  suppress  it;  but  as  is  usual  m  such  cases,  its  victory  was  but, tho 
more  triumphant  ami  violent.  In  bis  terror,  and  endeavoring  to  aisauro  tho 
judgf;  that  he  was  doing  his  best,  he  could  not  avert  his  eyes  from  him.  His 
fac^  assumed  the  agonized  contortions of.a  maniac;  his  great  chest  iieaved  like 
a  mountain  in  labor,  and  he  uttered  a  shriek  whicii,  in  jvny  circumstances  but 
t^ose  which  showed  that  nothing  serious  or  uncommoA  was  the  matter,  would- 
have  filled  all  within  a  circle  of  two  bundled  yur^ls  diameter  witli  consternation- 
In  the  violence  of  the  paroxysm,  the  coin  flew  ujf  from  his  hand  as  if  they  ha.l 


58  MrMORoirs  talep. 

Iioen  tiischargod  from  a  catax^ult,  ;ind  coming  down,  some  of  thcui  foil  upon 
the  judge's  head  and  rolled  into  his  lap.  An  instiutauoous  burst  of  laughter 
followed  this  cxplosiou,  which,  however,  was  as  instantly  bushed.  No  wonL- 
can  depict  tlie  expressions  ujwn  the  faces  of  the  two  prominent  actors.  Tin 
jud^e  had  been,  as  it  were  lifted  <>nt  of  his  chair,  and  there  the  two  sl<H»f1 
glaring  upon  each  other.  sj>eechk>s.  Each  soenioil  to  feel  that  Ihi.s  was  ii" 
time  for  talking — that  words  were  inadequate  to  do  ju.sticc  to  the  occasion. 
His  Honor  snatchetl  np  the  docket  with  the  evident  intention  of  knocking  Mr 
'riiig]>cn  down,  whether  iu  .self-defence,  or  in  vindication  of  the  outraged  di;;- 
nity  of  thec<jurt,  it  was  impossible  to  tell.  Mr.  Tbigpen  looked  at  it  Ih.-.'^ci  rh 
ingly — rw  much  as  to  say,  kntjck  me  down  with  it  and  welcome,  but  pici  ■ 
don't  hang  inc.  There  they  stood  fbr  a  quarter  of  a  minute:  then  tin 
judge,  feeling  doubtles.s  that  neither  the  i>enal  cotle  nor  the  court's  diseretiim 
were  adequati'  to  puuLsh  the  outrage  as  it  deserved,  said  almost  iu  a  wbispri , 
a.s  the  offender  stood  with  his  face  uutortetl  and  tniwiixnl : 

'For  God's  .sake  be  oil"  from  licio,  you  cussed  fool,  and  nc\n  lit  im-  :ii  miu 
again  iu  this  world.' 

Jle  made  no  uuncccisary  delay.  When  ho  had  gotten  fairly  without,  hear- 
ing of  the  court,  a  crowd  which  b;iil  followed  him  wen-  v -M-i"' ;ii.>nnLl  liini 
with  laughter. 

'How  did  you  feel,  Allen?'  askal  one. 

'Feel  I     I  did'ut  have  no  foclius.     They  wa.s  all  scm..!  niii  i.'  ni.-  ' 

'But  what  did  you  carry  him  the  money  for  ?' 
I  Carry  him  the  money?     Wasn't  that  right'/     lie  tuuuil  n)*' 

They  whooped. 

'I  thought  the  money  wns  his'n.  I  'lowed  that  was  the  way  begot  his 
livin.' 

'Gentl(!men  !'  he  resunicil,  wk'u  llie  crov.d  had  recovered  from  the  effect  ul 
this  last  remark,  'geutlenn'ii,  there'.s  two  tilings  in  this  country  that  I'm  :igin. 
They  are  scIkwIs  and  court  rooms.  When  1  weiv  standing  thar  jist  now,  if 
the  fcelins  ha<l  not  l)een  skecrotl  out  o'  me,  and  I  had  had  my  jedgment  about 
me,  I  should  a  felt  like  little  Ana.  Boatright  used  to  feel  when  Iserl  M(!adow.s 
told  bini  to  go  to  borsin  ;  and  I  bad  hoped  never  to  have  them  feelins  enduring 
my  nat'nd  life,  bec;iu.se  I  bad  the  conceptions  Iwrn  Asa's  looks  of  what  they 
must  be.  Gentlemen,  I  never  Hped  a  man  Ix^fore  that  I  was  ufeerd  of;  i 
thought  everybody  was  liablq  to  come  to  court.  Gentlemen,  1 1  cotoos  uo 
more  without  I'm  fotcbt.  Wlien  I  sneezed — and  I  couldn't  ba'  helped  it,  if 
the  gallis  bad  been  right  liefure  ifte— when  I  snivzed,  .siys  I  to  myself,  gone; 
when,  ding  my  skui,  <  f  1  don't  believe  that's  what  .saTcd  inc.     Gentleimij  I 


HUMOROUS    TALES.  59 

goes  home ;'  and  as  they  laughed  aud  shouteil,  Mr.  Thigpcn  left.  Many  and 
many  times  aftei-  that,  even  down  to  old  age,  he  was  heard  to  say  that  he  had 
'never  seed  but  one  man  that  he  was  afeerd  of,  and  that  was  the  jedgc — old 
Jedgo  Mike,  as  used  to  bo.' 

CHAPTER  V. 

'Strain  against  Ricklcs!' 

It  was  now  Friday  morning.  Tiic  Judge  was  weary  with  the  session,  and 
fretful  from  repeated  wranglings  with  several  leading  attorney.s.  These  had 
all  gone,  the  important  cases  having  been  tried  or  cdutinucd.  The  (Jonrt  bad 
announced  its  detcrmuiation  to  adjourn  that  aflernooii,  whether  the  docket 
should  be  finished  or  not.  It  had  not  Seen  its  family  in  two  weeks,  aud  it 
must  aud  would  see  its  family  by  to-morrow  night.  Juries  and  by-standers 
were  quiet  as  mice.  Mr.  Sanditlgo  w^as  in  the  enjoyment  of  mild  happiness, 
not  only  from  the  remembrance  of  having  had  a  good  run  of  luck  during  the 
week,  but  bccau.se  the  Judge  was  umv  in  a  hurry,  and  the  Sase  of  Strain 
against  Rickles  was  yet  untried.  He  wished  it  continued,  for  he  was  of  ctjun- 
sol  for  defendant,  and  their  plea  was  doubtful. 

^Strain  v.s.  Rickles,'  announced  the  Court,  rapidly  and  fretfully,  with  pen  in 
hand,  as  if  to  hint  that  it  was  expcctttl  to  follow  tho  fate  of  the  half-dozen 
preceding  casc^,  and  be  disposed  of  summarily. 
'Heady  for  the  plaintiff,'  annoimced  Mr.  Mobley. 

The  Judge  dropped  liis  pen,  leancil  back  in  his  chair,  Jind  cast  a  lln-eatening 
look  at  the  counsel.     Mr.  Sandidge  merely  remarked  that  that  was  a  case  in 
which  .some  pints  of  law  were  involved,  and  as  the  Coiu't  was  anxinus  to  ad- 
journ-and  to  go  homo  aud  see  its  family,  he  suggeste<l  that  if  the  counsel  was 
willing  it  might  be  continued  generally.     Mr.  Moblcy  objecting  to  this  dispo- 
sition, he,  after  having  a  witness  called,  and  receiving  no  answer,  proceeded  to 
make  a  showing  for  a  continuance  by  tlie  defendant.     This  was  the  absence  of 
a  witness  who,  as  he  hatl  been  infornKtd,  had  said  tluit  he  knew  all  about  tho 
case  from  beginning  to  end.     It  was  in  vain  that  Mr.  Mobley  urged  the  in- 
sulTicieucy  of  the  showing  for  its  indefinitenesR,  and  the  right  of  the  opposing 
counsel  to  send  forthfi  witness  who  lived  in  the  village,  and  who,  as  his  client 
infiirnied  him,  was  then  .m  the  street  and  within  hearing  of  tho  sheriff's  call, 
lit!  mentioned  thi.s  fact  aud  that  his  client  had  just  passed  him  in  llie  street 
and  heard  him  aay   when  he   w.xs  callcHl,    'It  is  Samlidg''.     1   know  wliat   hr 
wants ;  he  don't  want  me.' 

'If  the  counsel  or  the  court  desires  tlie  prescn(*e  of  tiie  witness,  he  can  Im^ 
procured  in  le^s  than  five  minute;  by  seodiug  th'e  sheriff  for  him.     Do  1  un- 


60  ETMoaoTa  tjllss. 

deratand  that  this  court  will  contin'ic  a  case  aad  delay  ihe  rights  of  creditor! 
wLeu  it  is  assured  that  a  witnow  who  refuses  to  r.tiond  it^  summons  is  ^vithin 
bearing  of  its  officer's  call — a  witness  whoso  acquannance  with  the  ficts  thero 
i&  only  a  hcresay  and  that  the  most  indefinite — a  witness  who,  to  appearaucea, 
is  alsent  by  the  procurement,  if  not  of  the  party  rvt  least  of  his  counsel  ?' 

The  Judge  hesitated,  ilr.  SandiJge  sceiug  the  CiTect  upon  both  of  them  of 
an  exposure  of.  what  was  the  fact,  his  instructions  to  the  witness,  not  to  obey 
the  call,  ^^tlidrew  hi*  motion. 

T  do  this,  may  it  please  ^'our  Honor,  not  from  anything  my  brother  Mobley 
has  said  in  argument,  or  f:ir  his  insinuations  about  procurements  and  such 
like.  The  showing  ia  a  sufficient  one  ;  but  I'll  waive  it — I'll  waive  it,  sir,  and 
I  think  I'm  prepared — I  say,  I  think  I'm  prepared  (noticing  the  judge's  dis- 
satisfaction at  the  direction  tl:e  matter  was  taking.)  to  end  this  matter  very 
summarily.    The  defendant  is  lendy.' 

A  jury  W.1S  impannelled,  and  Mr.  Mobley  proceeded  with  the  case.  It  vna 
a  Limple  action  upon  a  promissory  note  given  by  defendant  to  plaintifif,  who 
was  a  merchant  from  Augusta.  lie  read  the  declaration,  exhibited  the  nots 
and  closed. 

Mr.  Sandidgo  rose,  and  remarking  that  this  was  a  case  which  he  apprehcndod 
would  not  long  occupy  the  time  of  the  court  and  the  time  of  the  county,  an- 
nounced* to  Mr.  Mobley,  that  upon  consulting  his  chent,  ho  had  just  asocr- 
tained  that  the  consideration  of  the  note  sued  on  was  usurious,  and  that  his 
oonclusion  being  to  rely  on  that  defense  solely,  he  should  have  to  ask  time  of 
the  court  in  or<ler  to  make  out  the  p!c:i.  imless  counsel  would  ngrco  to  consider 
it  in  already. 

Mr.  Mobley,  turning  to  liis  client,  y/ho  assured  him  that  it  waa  not  true, 
illowed  Mr.  Sandidj^'c  to  proceed. 

A  witness,  the  same  who  liiad  been  called,  aud  whom  Mr.  Sandidge  pnvato- 
{y  scut  fo.-,  wrml  to  th-;  jstunJ.  Alter  the  usual  preliminary  that  he  d-d  not 
particularly  c'.iar?-  ;.;:.  mind  with  whn*  h"  heard  aud  saw,  not  expecting  to 
be  called  on,  ho  did  remember  that  tb«?  parties  said  s-omothing  about  the  nota 
being  in  renewal  of  accounts,  somo  of  which  plaintifl' himself  had  against  de- 
fendant, and  others  of  which  he  had  traded  to  him;  that  he  heard  plaintiff  tell 
defendant  that  if  ho  would  give  hi.s  note  for  (hem,  adding  in  the  interest,  ho 
would  indulge  hi.-n  a  year  on  its  pnyment ;  that  the  defendant  having  ngi-eed 
to  the  proposition,  gave  his  noto^  payable  at  twelve  months.  In  answer  to  a 
question  from  Mr.  Mobley  whether  anything  w.is  said  about  extra  interest,  ha 
did  not  recollect  aa  to  that:  didn't  particularly  charge  his  mind,  not  ex- 
pecting to  bo  called  on.    Mr.  Sandidge  offered  in  evidenoo  the  accounts  witk 


wmasouB  talss.  61 

legal  interest  computed  in,  acknowledging  payment  by  note  and  bearing  erven 
date  with  it.    Then  casting  a  triumphant  smile  at  every  body,  lie  sat  dovni. 

Mr.  Mobley  looked  at  the  judge  with  an  expression  which  seemed  to  say  : 
'Surely,  no  fool,  not  even  you,  would  admit  such  testimony.'  The  judge  looked 
at  him,  and  his  countenance  seemed  to  ask,  'What  do  you  say  to  that,  Mr. 
Mobley?'  Mr.  Mobley  avowed  his  belief  that  ia  all  judicial  history,  a  thing 
so  absurd  had  never  before  been  proposed,  and  he  moved  that  the  whole  evi- 
dence be  escludcd,  and  he  be  allowed  to  take  a  verdict.  Being  called  on  for 
bis  reasons :  'Because,'  said  he,  contemptuously,  'it  does  not  support  the  ple«. 
You  have  pleaded  usury,  and  you  have  proved  that  the  contract  is  not 
Qfiurious.' 

Mr.  Sandidge  said  that  he  might  be  mistaken  ;  that  he  said  he  might  bs 
mistaken,  but  that  he  had  never  heard — he  had  now  been  practicing  law 
twenty-five  years  and  better — but  that  to  the  best  of  his  recollection,  he  had 
never  seen  nor  heard  of  a  case  where  interr^  .  was  collected,  or  could  bfl  ooUeot- 
•d  on  open  accounts,>on  accounts  that  weru  not  liquidated. 

'Who  gainsays  that  ?'  Mr.  Mobley  interposed. 

'The  ccuD&el  will  please  allow  mu  to  proceed,  knowing  as  Lc  dvcs,  his  right 
to  reply.  1  said,  may  it  please  your  Honor,  that  in  my  recollection,  in  a 
practice  now  of  twenty-five  years  and  better,  I  had  never  seen  nor  heard  of  a 
case  where  interest  was  collected  or  could  be  collected  on  open  accounts— on 
accounts  that  Avere  not  liquidated.  That  thing  is  for  the  first  time  in  my 
practice,  sought  to  be  enforced  upon  a  court  and  upon  a  country.  The  plain- 
tiff in  this  case — and  these  Augusty  merchants ' 

'Go  on  to  the  jury,'  ordered  the  judge. 

Mr.  Sandid;;o    owed  and  turned  to  the  jury. 

'These  Augut  merchants,  gentlemen  of  the  jury,'  'easily  resuming  th« 
thread  of  his  ar;,  .Jicnt,  'these  Augusty  merchants,  as  a  general  thing,  always 
kLOW  what  th' V  are  about.  T  s«y  always— not  a  single  exception  ;'  and  be 
bestowed  on  Iht  olaintiS  a  look  fully  significant  of  his  adresieaion  that  he  was 
entitled  to  hia  si  re  of  the  enconwum  pronourced  upon  tbe  class  of  which  be 
was  an  individaai.  'These  Augnsty  merchants  know  more  in  an  hour  than  wp 
plain  country  peo  le  do  In  a  wc-ek.  And  it  is  r^nsonub!?*  to  suppd^e  that  tbpv 
do ;  oad  'tis  bicausj  ibey  arc  Augu-ty  merchants ;  for  what  cbiuce  have  we 
here  Iq  the  country  got  to  know  aa.cnuch  as  they  knew?  We  don't  sfH'  lh»' 
(.team  boats,  and  "he  power  cf  the  wagons,  and  th"  thousands  of  cotton  bntr-"- 
an^  the  fine  brick  ware  honaei.jind  ihc  hardware  stores  and  the  other  stores  iu.^t 
•Iwaya  keep  lull  of  one  particular  kind  of  goods.  If  Tommy  Rickles  was  to  g^s  to 
Axi^ty,  and  was  to  wast  tc  buy  a  dog*knife  for  bialittJe  boy,  he  would  just  m  apt 


62  ntTM«TiO¥S  TALIS. 

to  goto  a  store  which  had  nothing  iu  it  but  calico  and  dry  goods,  and  falfer  of  them 
than  all  the  stores  in  this  town  ;  an  J  when  they  langlicd  and  told  hini  they 
were  just  out  of  that  article,  he  might  go  to  a  hat  store,  and  then  into  a  shoe 
store,  and  then  into  a  candy  store — into  a  store  whore  the  shelves  was  literally 
blinded  with  jars  of  candy,  and  nothing  but  candy  ;  and  so  it  might  be  un  hour 
iieforc  he  got  to  a  hardware  stoic  and  (bund  a  dog-knife  lor  his  littl'.'  boy  ,  and 
tlien  ten  to  one,  he  couldn't  find  his  way  back  to  \m  wagon.  I  say  we  don't 
know  any  thing  to  compare  with  these  Augusty  merchants.  Bat  still  there  are 
some  few  things  that  we  do  know  if  w6  do  live  here  in  the  country  where  there 
aint  any  steam  boats,  and  hat  stores,  and  candy  stores,  and  hardware  stores ; 
and  one  of  them  is  that  you  ce-ant  collect  interest  on  open  accounts." 

That  settled  it  Mr.  Sandidgc  seemed  to  think  ;  ani  several  of  the  jury 
tlnugli  evidently  no't  yet  very  clear,  inclined  to  thiuk  so  too. 

'We  all  know  that,'  continued  Mr.  Sandidgc — 'that  i.-,  all  except 'i'oujmy 
Ilicklt^s.'  ((.Jeneral  Im*-  "•  v  the  jury  seeing  the  matter  a  little  more  clearly 
c.;,»  cially  as  'J'ommy  looked  so  innocent  and  pitiful.) 

'And,  gentlenjen,  Tommy  knowed  it  too,  if  he  had  thought  about  il,  and 
had'n^t  been  with  a  Augusty  merchant  ;  and  had'nt  been  tliiidving  of  the  steam- 
boats, and  the  power  of  the  wagons,  and  the  hat  stores,  and  the  shoe  stores,  and 
the  hardware  stores,  and  got  his  senses  all  confused  up  together.'  (Continued 
laughter,  a  majority  of  the  jury  boing  fully  satisfied.) 

The  judge  waxing  stern  at  the  disorder,  Mr.  Sandidge  had  to  moderate  his 
humor,  and  eon«luded  by  arguing  heatedly  and  seriously  as  he  Could,  and  even 
somewhat  pathetically  that  interest  not  being  collectible  on  open  accoants,  this 
plain  principle  vitiated  the  whole  transaction  and  made  it  usurious.  With 
another  avowal  of  hi**  desire  not  to  take  up  the  time  of  the  court  and  the  time 
of  the  country  by  arguing  so  plain  a  case,  he  .^ut  down,  iiis  eountenauce  ex- 
prcssii'.g  both  a  virtuous  indignation  at  a  great  wrong  which  was  attempted, 
and  a  proud  satisfaction  that  it  could  not  be  done  ovir  his  shoulders. 

Mr.  Mobley  felt  that,  with  the  prejudices  of  the  judge  against  himself  and 
especially  against  usury,  and  the  cunning  Mr.  Sandidge,  he  was  in  groat  danger 
of  losing  his  case.  lie  spoke  with  great  energy  on  the  absurdity  of  the  defend- 
ant's plea.  Iu  the  midst  of  his  argument,  Mr.  Sandidge  asked  him  for  his  au- 
thorities. Tnis  was  done  to  embarrass  him  and  throw  him  oil"  his  guard,  as  he 
would  have  had  to  admit  that  there  wns  nc  autliority  in  point  ;  but  he  had 
now  gotten  too  high  to  be  reached  by  M.\  Sandidge. 

♦I  am  asked,'  he  said,  'for  the  production  of  authority  that  the  giving  of  a 
note  in  liquidation  of  a  just  debt  is  not  usurious.  1  am  asked  for  this  by  a 
lawyer  of  tweuty-flve  years'  practice— a  lawyer  who  is  old  enough  and  promi- 


inJMOEO¥S  TALES.  03 

uent  enough  to  be,  what  it  especially  behooves  every  lawyer  to  be,  a  coiiscivator 
of  public  tranquility  and  private  integrity— ouc  who,  with  all  his  boasted  coutcnipt 
of  legal  precedents,  and  his  real  ignorance  of  them,  yet  knows  full  well  thit  in 
no  court  of  justice,  even  the  most  insignificant  was  this  question,  or  any  other 
one  so  absurd  as  this,  ever  raised ;  and  whose  only  reason  for  raising  it  at  this 
time,  was  his  knowledge  of  the  existence  of  dishonest  habits  and  unrcasonabl- 
prejudices  which,  as  a  leading  citizen  he  ought  to  be  one  of  the  last  to  cncoui; 
age.  Violent  as  the  presumption  often  i?,  and  lar  from  the  very  semblance  of 
truth,  it  is,  nevertheless,  a  presumption  that  judges  know  the  laws ;  and  it 
ought  to  be  the  habit  of  attorncya  and  solictors,  especially  those  of  experience 
and  influence,  to  refrain  from  raising  questions,  a  moment's  entertainment  of 
which  by  any  court  is  sufficient  to  deprive  it  of  the  respect  of  all  men.  But 
it  has  remained  for  this  day  to  witness  that  the  highest  court  in  one  of  the 
sovereign  States  of  this  Confcderacy,shallbe  insufk;<l  in  its  dignity  and  majpsty 
by  J»  course  of  conduct  which  seems  to  have  been  designedly  pursued  in  order 
to  test  the  sanity  of  that  court's  presiding  oEBcer.  Asauredly  to  no  other  miii  d 
than  to  that  of  the  counsel  had  it  been  possible  to  fail  to  occur,  that  an  insig- 
nificant advantage  in  a  suit  at  law  was  scarcely  worth  the  having  when  it  was 
to  be  gained  in  away  which,  to  say  nothing  of  its  influence  upon  its  client. 
would  establish  cither  the  stultification  of  the  court,  or  (and  he  looked  fixedly 
and  fearlessly  into  the  judge's  face,)  raise  the  suspicion  of  a  yet  greater  in- 
firmity. Even  if  he  should  consider  himself  as  so  great  a  friend  to  the  court* 
whether  from  past  favors  or'prcsent  adulation,  or  from  any  other  cause,  as  to 
think  himself  entitled  to  the  exalted  privilege  of  being  its  favorite,  one  would 
liavo  supposed  that,  if  for  no  other  reason,  at  least  from  motives  of  prudence 
and  decency,  he  would  have  confined  hia  conduct  within  that  sphere  where 
there  would  have  been  left  at  least  a  doubt  as  to  what  judr^mcnt  that  conduct 
ought  to  receive.  It  is  a  duty  which  we  owe  even  to  our  private  friends,  no! 
to  demand  a  service  of  which  there  can  be  found  no  reason  but  friendship  to 
justify  the  rendering,  while  every  other  reason  but  fricndshii)  would  demmd  its 
refusal.  There  are  some  services  which  no  ardor  of  friendship  is  adequate  to 
l»rocilro— some  indeed  which  a  projior  nnd  worthy  friendship  would  be  Iho  last 
1o  exact.'    , 

A  large  crowd  had  gatheri-U  into  the  court  room,  attracted  Ijy  the  vehem  ncc 
of  the  yonng  lawyer'.-i  declamation.  Tie  was  an  eloquent  speaker,  and  hi.s 
speech  was  telling  upon  the  bysfanders.  He  saw  it,  and  it  stimulated  him  to 
oontinually  increasing  endeavii-. 

•'riiero  is  a  vulgar  maxim  (hat  there  is  nothing  to  be  lost  by  the  asking  ol 
favAi--     'n.-  .unnsel  ha==i  |n„.. -....I  <<tm||  ip„rn,.,l  l.nn- «,.  nn.nt  by  it.     HIspuc- 


64 


HTJirOEOTJS  TALES. 


eftjgfal  experienw  in  this  rojpect,  while  it  reflects  no  great  honor  anon  hl» 
sincerity  or  even  upon  his  ingennity,  pays  a  consideration  to  the  source  from 
which  these  favors  flow,  which  it  i?  impossible  to  bo  considered  aa  in  tho  small- 
est def!;i'eo.  respectfnl.  I  warn  him  this  day  of  tho  necessity  to  beware  how  he 
abugec  an  influence  which  bis  every  action  shows  that  he  is  congcious  of  exerting. 

There  is  a  decorum  which  men,  even  of  the  greatest  ability,  when  in  the  eo- 
joyuient  of  honors,  even  those  the  most  fairly  won,  cannot  neo:lect  with  impunity. 
Lf't  those,  then,  especially  bewar-:-.  the  success  of  whose  career  i»  mainly  depend- 
«?ot  upon  favor.  For  graning  that  the  power  whiv;h,  strange  as  it  is,  he  may 
truiy  think  that  he  has  immeasurably  above  others  succeeded  in  conciliating, 
and  controlling,  is  absolute  and  unlimited,  yet  when  it  shall  at  last  of  all  others- 
jR'comi?.  convinced  that  such  a  control  is  no  longer  compatible,  not  only  with  the 
uppearance  of  respectability,  but  even  with  its  own  security,  and  shall,  as  it 
a3>{uied!y  will,  withdraw  from  him  the  favor  in  which  he  seems  to  live,  and  move- 
and  have  his  being,  he  must  then  know  how  vain  will  bo  the  late  pursuit  o' 
those  other  and  higher  means  of  snecesa  which  liM  been  his  constant  habit  to 
neglect.  And  even  if  this  should  not  come  to  hs^  if  dullness  shall  never  be 
ble  to  be  conscious  of,  and  to  resist  a  control  Mch  binds  it  like  t  he  spall  of 
the  charmer,  surely,  in  a  country  so  free  and  s ,  mane  in  all  its  institution^ 
except  its  courts  of  justice,  in  a  country  whcro  . -ft  are  so  many  good  and 
bravo  men — men  who  have  been  good  enough  au  "r  i7e  enough  to  resist  and  to 
destr  jy  every  other  form  of  tyranny^  it  is  not  too  ■\n  h  lo  expect  that  the  tim® 
must  come  and  come  soon,  when  this  last  foroj  muat  .^  .'3!d  to  the  necessities  o' 
an  advar.r;  "vii  sat  ion,  ;;nd.  follow  the  fate  of  thcs' -vhicb  have  gone  befort 
it  Sure  v.  •ily,  -t  cannot  long  remain,  that  a  fiw  people,  who  have  broke© 
the  last  shackle  of  political  despotism,  must  continue'to  bo.v  ja  abject  submLs- 
eion  before  another  which  is  the  more  odious,  because  thhir  owu  hands  have 
created  it,  and  because  their  own  hau'ls  may  peaceably  d'jstroy  it.' 

Mr.  Mobley  spoke  for  half  an  hour  in  this  atnii  •,  during  many  parti  of 
which,  .Mr.  Sandidge,  smiling  as  he  was,  was  rathc-r  piteous  to  bo  seen  ;  end 
when  he  epoke  of  the  merits  of  the  ploa  itself,  Tommy  Kicklea  but  that  ho  had 
tt«  great  Mr.  Sandidge  for  his  friend:  would  have  felt  as  if  he  ought  ♦©  ba  lo  tho 
peiitentiary. 

The  judge  had  ODca  or  tfice  opened  hia  mouth  for  tl:e  parposa  oi  aiTesing 
the  speaker  and  finin  j  him  for  contempt ;  but  Mobley's  pasaiou  had  terrified  his 
weak  mind,  and  he  had  not  the  nerve  to  do  it.  When  the  last  s  nteocs  of  this 
terrible  philippic  v.-as  spoke;i,  with  feeble  desperation  he  beckon*^  the  aheriflT  to 
him.  His  adversary  paused,  and  fixed  his  eyes,  which  rolled  and  barned  lika 
the  Hoa'a,  apoD  both  ot  thea  alternately.    Tbs  poor  croatare  qaailed,  ebxtuk 


BIDIOBOITB  7ALES.  65 

bacb  in  Lis  cbair.&nd  bowed  his  bsad  ia  tbc  anatterable  angaisb  of  feeling  that 
one  more,  ucd  ho  a  mere  boy,  had  assaalted  him  in  his  very  castle,  and  van- 
qnished  him.  He  dwelt  in  the  latter  part  of  his  speech  most  solemnly  upon  the 
grave  responsibilities  of  courts,  which  eat  in  the  last  resort  upon  the  trial  of 
the  rights  of  citizens.  In  the  abecnce  of  a  high  couit  for  the  correction  of 
errors,  every  judge  should,  and  every  upright  one  would  hesitate  in  pronouncing 
0  jodgraeni  which  was  to  be  fino^l  and  irrevocable.  With  some  of  the  itioa* 
tloqnent  and  touching  observations  upon  this  sentiment,  he  c!cSoJ  his  speech. 

His  Honor  had  deterrained  to  charge  the  jury  ia  favor  of  the  defendant.  He 
Mia  from  principle  and  from  habit  (a  habit  much  more  common  then  than  now) 
opposed  to  the  payment  of  interest  oii  open  accounts ;  aid  from  principle  and 
habit  much  more  opposed  to  the  payrxj-^nt  of  usurious  interest.  He  had  gotten 
St  Into  his  head  that  not  only  was  usury  condemned  in  the  Bible,  bat  that  it 
bad  been  mainly  instraiusntal  in  the  o.-crthrow  of  the  great  eccpires  of  tbf» 
ancient  world,  particularly  the  Komcn.  For  some  wag  had  told  him  that  vb8 
hlter  was  0003  publicly  sold  end  bonght  by  a  celebiated  usurer,  one  Didy 
Julian,  under  an  execution  of  fieri  facias.  Being  by  his  pojition,  one  of  ♦h« 
©ODservators  of  the  public  cafety,  ha  had  resolved  to  prevent  if  possible  any 
ftoch  disaster  to  hia  native  country,  by  rebuking  and  punishing  this  great.©?* 
Tic«  of  society  whenever  it  cnme  iu  his  way,  let  it  assunse  whatever  disguise  It 
nwght.  Id  this  renewal  of  open  account?,  he  imaojioed  that  he  dimly  perceived 
aa  attempt  to  evade  the  law,  and  had  mnde  np  his  mind  wbon  Ivlr.  Sandidgt? 
bod  concluded,  to  charge  upon  it  like  a  equadron  of  horse.  But 
Mobley  had,  in  the  very  absence  of  all  opportu:  ity  of  argument,  east  sach  an 
nmoant  of  ridicnie  upon  that  motion,  that  he  gravely  doubted  whether  socb  a 
cbarg?  be  right.  Besidis,  Mobley  had  now  risen  to  the  rauk  of  those  w'uo:»<» 
ridicule  and  contempt  he  was  ashamed  and  afraid  to  incin.  Ho,  iherelon?' 
refused  snllenly  to  give  any  instructions;  but  ordering  the  pleadings  lo  b-3 
handed  to  the  jury,  sent  them  to  their  room.  Half  an  hour  afterwards  having 
returned  to  the  box,  they  were  asked  if  they  had  agreed  upou  a  verdict.  Tha 
foreman,  a  little  dark  man,  with  short,  straight  up  hair,  and  a  sharp  voice,  row 
nod  said  : 

'May  it  please  the  cote,  we  has  uot  ;  we  des^tej  tu  ask  your  Honor,  if  upon 
the  provoia  — ' 

'I  don't  want  tu  hear  of  your  provo=oei.  Go  back  lo  jour  room,  and  find  * 
verdict,  or  make  a  mis-triii),    I  have  co  isstiuctiona  to  ^ive  on  yourprovosoep.' 

The  little  man  dodged,  tarnci^l  quickly  and  led  bis  followers  back.  They 
agreed  to  disagre-e ;  ten  of  the  number  not  being  able  to  see  any  usury  in  the 
consideration,  while  two  Sandidge  men  contended  then,  and  ever  afterward* 
persisted  in  contending,  that  it  was  pkin  as  day. 


66  HTJMdROU.S    TALES. 

AuU  now  it  was  tlio  afttmoon  ;  llic  sun  wita  last  declining.  Unless  tbo  court 
could  get  fifteen  or  twenty  miles  on  its  way  Lome  to-day,  it  would  not  reach  it, 
and  see  its  family  by  lo-niorrow  night.  Business  had  to  be  despatched  right 
away  cverbody  knew,  or  be  left  undone.  Mr.  Mobloy  had  a  money  rule  to  take 
against  the  ehcrill.  That  keeper  of  the  county  had  been  in  some  aaxiety  all 
the  forenoon  on  account  of  it  bm  ""w  h.-  was  at  his  ease  since  he  had  consulted 
Mr.  Sandidge. 

'What  artt  you  scared  about ;'  Dou  l  you  sec  that  he's  bent  ou  iitarliug  home 
thi.s  evening?'  ' 

'But  I  can't  make  a  showing,  because  I've  spent  the  money.' 

'IIow  much  have  you  got  aliout  you  at  this  particular  time';" 

'Twenty  dollars.' 

'Hand  it  over  to  me.     It  will  do  for  you  and  me  too  for  the  present.' 

The  sherifl"  paid  it  over. 

The  hist  docket  was  closed  ;  in  the  intermission  of  court  for  dinner,  the  jury 
for  the  next  term  had  been  drawn,  those  of  this  term  were  discharged.  The 
judge  took  out  hi.^  watch. 

'May  it  please  your  Honor,'  began  Mr.  Mobley,  '1  desire  to  take  a  rule 
against  the  sheriDT.' 

'Will  it  be  resisted?' 

'It  will,  may  it  please  your  Jlonor,'  answered  Mr.  yaiididge.  'Mr.  yherili  go 
to  my  office  and  Ining  me  ihe  Acts  of  the  last  Legislature.  Ih-ing  tlioae  of  the 
two  last,  if  you  please,  Mr.  Sheriff.  I  disremcmlter  which  it  is  that  contains 
the  law  I  wish  to  refer  to.  1  ask  the  indulgence  of  the  court  for  only  a  few 
iiiinut«s  until  I  can  make  out  the  showing. 

'Will  there  be  any  other  rules  or  orders  to  be  made?'  asked  the  judge  im- 
jjatiently.  •    ' 

I  have  several,'  jMr.  Sandidge  answered;  'l)nt  imlci^s  your  Honor  could  hold 
over  to-niorrovv,  1  shall  be  obliged  to  postpone  taking  thcni  until  the  next  term, 
as  this  rule  will  take  up  all  the  balance  of  this  aftoruoon,  prol)ably. 

riie  sheriff  was  going  slowly  towards  the  do'T  ;  'come  back  here,  sir,'  bawled 
ihc  judge,  ri.sing,  his  temper  all  gone.  'Thi.s  court  has  got  powers  ;  it  may  be 
insulted  ;  it  may  be  abused  ;  but  it  has  got  powers  ;  it  has  got  privileges  !  Ad- 
journ this  conrt  till  the  court  in  course  ! !' 

'I  protest  against  this  disgraceful ,'  began  Mr.  Mobley.  but  the  sheriff  in 

thundering  tones  was  alrcadv  announcing  the  adjournment,  and  as  his  Honor, 
pale  and  haggard  rushed  rapidly  past  him.  '(iod  .«avc  the  State,'  he  cried  in 
thankful  glee,  'and  the  onerble  court !' 

Mr.  Mobley  was  too  full  of  indignation  to  trust  himsell  with  many  words. 


HTT]VI0R0¥S     TALE*5.  ^  <^7 

'You  two  aad  lio  Ibrni  a  gloiioua  trio  in  the  tlispcnsuiioi  ol  humane  justice/ 
be  said  bitterly  to  the  sberiff  and  his  lawyer.  '  Rut,'  raisiug  his  hand  and  sbalr 
ing  it  towards  the  latter,  'your  day  is  passing  ;  mine  is  coming.' 

'I  think  he  will  Lave  to  waif,  for  his  Supreme  Court,  cli,  Mr.  SandidgcV  vc 
marked  the  sheriff  as  Moblcy,  taking  the  arm  of  Overton,  who  had  staid  till  the 
last  moment,  walked  away  to  his  office. 

Mr.  Sandidge  made  no  answer,  but  taking  a  big  cLcw,  smiled  thoughtfully 
aud  seriously.  In  twenty  minutes  from  that  time,  the  two  rascals  compelled 
the  plaintiff  in  execution,  who  had  sought  tlie  rule,  to  settle  his  debt  by  taking 
the  sherilTs  note  at  twelve  months  without  interest,  also  deducting  tho  fee  which 
had  been  paid  to  Mr.  Sandidge  for  defending  him  as  be  said  'from  them  disgrace- 
ful proceedanccs.' 

'And  what  do  you  think  of  Georgia  justice  ?'  asked  Mr.  Moblcy,  after  he  had 
reached  his  olTicc. 

'Our  courts  make  as  good  a  show  as  a  caravan  nf  wild  beasts,  do  they  not?' 

'Such  scenes  as  those  to-day  must  surely  happen  very  seldom-' 

'Seldom  !     I  tell  you  they  happen  frequently.' 

'In  all  the;  circuits?' 

'No  :  in  some  of  them,  thank  God,  there  arc  men  who  arc  neither  fools  nor 
rascals.  Rut  our  miserable  judiciary  system  will  not  allow  a  man  to  remain 
very  long  on  the  bench,  however  learned  and  upright  he  may  go  upon  it,  with- 
out his  at  least  tending  to  become  one  or  the  other  of  these  characters.  The 
possession  of  unlimited  power  makes  tyrants  of  the  very  best  men,  while  it  ig 
notorious  that  our  judges  whcusthcy  come  off  the  bench  are  worse  lawyers  than 
they  are  when  they  go  upon  it.  Why,  what  you  saw  is  no  worse  than  what  hag 
frequently  occurred  here.  The  miserable  dolt  used  to  crowd  me,  until  I  felt  that 
I  must  resist  or  be  a  collared  slave.  Ho  knows  now,  however,  I  think,  that  1 
am  not  afraid  of  him.' 

'He  is  now  evidently  afraid  of  you.' 

'I  do  not  know  as  to  that.'  Mr.  Moblcy  brushed  ihr  li  lir  ivom  Ills  lorchcad. 
and  looked  as  though  he  did  know  as  to  that . 

'You  have  passed  yonr  ordeal  at  last,  and  will  licrcalt'r  Ix?  able  at  lea.^t.  to 
divide  the  control  of  the  court.' 

'Do  yon  think  so?' 

•There  is  no  doubt  of  it.     He  is  evidently  hacked.' 

'1  ho])0  you  are  not  mistakej  ;  for  humiliating  as  it  is  to  a  gentleman's  sense 
of  propriety  and  decency,  he  must,  iu  order  to  attain  professional  success,  either 
liecome  a  favorite  of  the  court  or  make  the  court  afraid  of  him.  Retwocn  the 
two,  unhappy  as  is  the  choice  of  either,  he  cannot  foi>a  moment  hesitate.' 

The  student  made  no  answer,  but  parted  with  him,  and  having  ordered  his 
horse,  rode  slowly  back  to  ]\[r.  Parkinson's. 


E017  JtlE.  BEL  WILLIAMS  TOOK  THE  RESPOXSIBILIIY. 


CHAPTER  I. 

"Onr  honor  leacheth  4JS 

That  \rebc  bold  yi  every  entcrpriss." 

The  incidents  tbati  am  about  to  relate  transpired  near  Dckos* 
borough,  a  small  villag-j  something  undf.r  ahundted  miles  from  Au- 
gusta. For  many  yciioit  lias  ceased  even  to  be  mentioned,  except 
Ly  the  v.'.-ryfew  persona  now  living,  who  knew  it  before  the  Dukbp, 
(from  Tvhom  it  was  named,)  Icit  it.  It  has  suffered  tho  most  absnluto 
d(  cny  that  I  have  ever  known  to  befall  a  village.  It  had  not  been 
laid  «jff  in  its  beginning  upon  any  definite  plan.  Itseemed,  indeed, 
to  have  become  a  village  unexpectedly  to  itself  and  to  every  body 
else,  notwithstanding  the  fact  tha!,  instead  of  being  in  a  hurry  to  be- 
come so,  it  took  its  own  time,  and  thatamonnted  to  somo  years.  The 
Dukes  first  established  a  blacksmith's  shop — then  a  store.  Both 
prcspcred.  After 'some  time  other  iiersons  came  in,  and  buying  a 
jittle  ground,  settled  on  both  sides  of  the  road,  (a  winding  load  it 
v;as,)  until  there  were  several  families,  a  school,  and  a  church. 
Then  tho  Dukos  grew  ambitious,  and  had  the  place  called  Dukes- 
borongli.  It  cTew  on  until  this  i'amily  left  the  place,  some  for  the 
counties  frrther  west,  and  some  for  tho  grave.  Then  decay  sot  in  at 
o\iC?,  and  to  day  a  vrrctched  log  jiouso'  on  oiic  side  of  the  present 
road,  and  fit  to  bo  used  for- no  purpose  whatever,  is  the  only  sign  of 
a  relic  of  ascient  Dukesborough. 

It  would  be  useless  to  speculate  n"pon  the  causes  of  its  fall.  The 
places  of  human  habitation  are  like  those  who  inhabit  them.  Some 
persons  die  in  inlanc}',  some  in  childhood,  some  in  youth,  sonao  at 
nid?.le-ap;e,  some  at  three  score  and  ten,  and  some  linger  yet  longer. 
But  tl)e  last,  in  their  own  time.'',  die  as  surely  as  many  of  the  former. 
Metl;u?;alch  lived  to  nine  hundred  and  sixty  and  eight  years,  but 
then  Ac  died.  The  account  in  (Grenesis,  of  those  first  generations 
of  men,  is,  after  all,  I  think,  a  melancholy  one.  Tho  three  last 
words, dosin,!?  tlia  history  of  every  one  of  them,  are  to  )ne  very 
sad,  And  he  died  J 

So  it  is  with  the  places  ■^hefeiti  mortals  dwcli.  Some  of  them  be- 
i  oiiiG  villages,  some  towns^  some  cities  ;  but  'all — villages,  towns, 
and  cities,  ha^ve  their  times  to  fall,  just  as  infants,  youths,  men  and 
old  men,  have  theirs  to, die.     People  may  say  what  they  please  about 


HTJM0E0U3  TALES.  69 

the  situation  not  being  well  chosen,  and  about  tho  disagreeableness 
of  having  the  names  of  their  .residences  all  absorbed  by  the  Dukes 
whom  few  persons  used  to  like.    This  might  be  tine,  and  I  adaiii. 
was  true  in  this  case.     Yet,   my  position  about  Dukcsborugh  is 
that  it  had  lived  out  its  life.     It  had  run  its  race  like  all  otliev 
things,   places  and  people,  who  have  lived  out  their  lives  and  run 
their  race  ;  arjd  when  that  was  done,  Dukesborough  had  to  fall.     It 
had  not  lived  long,   and  it  had  run  but   slowly,  ii,  indeed  it  can  be 
said  to  have  run  at  all.     But  it  reached  its  journey's  end.    ,Whon  it 
did,  it  had  to  fall ;  and  it  fell.     It  not  often  happens  that  I  pass  the 
place  where  it  used  to  stand,  but  whenever  I  do,  1  feel  somewhat 
as  I  feel  when  1  go  near  the  neglected   grave   of  an   old  acquaint- 
ance.    I  say  to  myself  ■  in  the  latter  case.     Hete  is  the  h?t  of  him- 
He  was   once  a   stout,  hearty,   good-humored   fellow'.     It  is  sad  fo 
think  of  him  as  having  dropped  everything,   and  being  covered  u.p 
here  where  tho  eartlir  above  him  is  now  like  the  rest  all  around  the 
place,  and  his  grave,  but  for  ray   recollection  of*  the  spot  where  it 
was  due,  would  be  indistinguishable.    But  it  could  not  be  helped,  ar.d 
here  he^is  for  good.     So  of  Dukseborough .     When  I  pass  along  the 
road,  I  think,  'Here  was  once  a  smart  village,'— no  great  tlungs  of 
ourse,  but  stiU  a  lively,  busy,   harmless   village.     It  might  have 
stood  longer,  and  tho  rest  of  the  world  not  have  been  hurt ;  but  it  is 
no  «se  to  think  about  it,  because  the  thing  is  over,  and  Dukesborough 
is  no  more.     Besides  myself  there   may  be   one  or  two  persons  yet 
living,  who  can  tell  with  eomo  approximation  to  accuracy,  where 
it  used  to  stand.     When  wo  are  dead,  whoever  may  wish  to   gather 
any  relic  of  Dukesborough,  must  do  as  they  do  on  the  supposed  bUgs 
of  the  cities  of  more    ancient  times, t— that   is  to  say,  tliey  mi^t  dig 
for  it. 

These  reflections,  somewhat  grave  I  admit,  may  seem  to  be  un- 
fitly preliminary  to  the  narrative  which  is  to  follow  them.  Bui  I 
trust  tbcy  will  be  pardoned  in  an  old  man  who  could  not  forbear  to 
make  them,  ivhen  calling  to  mind  the  forsaken  places  of  his  bov- 
hood;  albeit,  tho  scenes  which  ho  proposes  to  describe,_  f.o  far 
from  being  serious,  are  rather  sportive  in  their  character.  If  I  CJin 
smile,  o.nd  sometimes  I  do  smile  at  the  recital'  of  tlungs  that  wcro 
one  and  words  that  were  said  by  some  of  my  earliest  cotemporrncs, 
yfct  I  must  bo  allowed  aUo  a  sigh  when  I  remember  that  the  duin^B 
and  the  pr.yings  of  nearly  all  of  them  r-TC  ended  for  this  T-crld. 

chapteh  II. 

When  Josiah  Lorriby  came  into  tho  neighborhood  to  keep  aschnol, 
I  was  too  yuupg  and  ton  small  to  go  to  it  alone.  Having  no  olcei- 
brother  or  sister  to  go  along  with   mc,  my  parents,   altliough  tUcy 


70  mjMOROUS  TALEB. 

were  anxious  tor  #ic  lo  begin,  were  about  to  concludG  1o  give  it  uj\ 
when,  fortunately,  it  was  ascertained  that  WiHiani  Williams,  a  big 
fellow,  whose  widowed  mother  resided  near  to  us,  intended  to  go 
one  term  and  complete  his  education,  preparatory  to  being  made 
the  better  fitted  for  a  prospect  of  some  ambition  which  he  had  in 
view.  His  way  lay  by  our  door,  and  as  he  was  one  of  the  most 
accommodating  persons  in  the  world,  he  kindly  proflFercd  to  take 
charge  of  me.  Without  a  moment's  hesitation,  and  with  much 
gratitude,  this  offer  was  accepted,  and  I,was  delivered  over  into  his 
keeping. 

William  Williams  was  so  near  being  a  man  that  the  little  boys 
use  to  call  him,  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  usually  wore  a  stout  dress-coat 
of  homespun,  with  pockets  opening  upon  the  outer  instead  of  the 
inner  side  of  the  skirts.  Many  a  time,  when  I  was  I'atigucd  with 
walking,  have  I  ridden  upon  his  back,  my  hands  resting  upon  his 
shoulders  aud  my  feet  standing  in  those  capacious  pockets.  1S\y. 
Bill  promised  to  take  care  of  mc,  and  he  kept  his  word. 

On  the  iirst  morning  when  the  school  was  opened,  we  went  to- 
gether to  it.  About  one  mile  and  a  half  distant  stood  the  school- 
house.  Eighteen  by  twenty  feet  were  its  dimensions.  It  was 
built  of  logs  and  covered  with  clap-boards.  It  l.ad  one  door,  and 
opposite  to  that  a  hole  in  the  wall,  two  feet  S(]uare,  which  was  called 
the  window.  It  stood  in  the  corner  of  a  field  (having  foi'iuerty  been 
used  its  a  fodder-house,)  and  on  the  brow  of  a  hill,  at  the  foot  of 
which,  overshadowed  by  oak  trees,  was  a  noble  spring  of  fresh 
water.  Our  way  led  us  by  this  spring,  .lust  as  wo  reached  it, 
Mr.  Bill  pointed  to  the  eummit  and  said  : 

'Yonder  it  is,  Squire.' 

Mr.  Bill  freifuoutly  called  me  squire,  partly  frmii  more  lacetious- 
ness,  and  partly  Irom  his  respect  lor  my  father,  who  was  a  Justice  oi" 
the  Peace. 

I  did  not  answer.  We  ascended  tlio  iiill,  and  Mr.  r>ill  led  me 
into  the  presence  of  the  genius  of  the  place. 

Mr.  Josiah  Lorriby  was  a  reiuarka]>le  man,  at  hiast  in  appearance. 
He  was  below  the  middle  height,  but  S(|uarely  built.  His  body  was 
good  enough,  but  Ids  otlier  parts  were  dcrectivc.  He  had  a  low 
liat  head,  with  very  short  liair  and  very  long  ears.  Ilisarms  were 
•reasonably  long,  but  his  hands  and  legs  were  disproportionately 
short.  Many  tales  were  told  of  his  feet,  which  lie  wore  in  shoes 
with  iron  soles-.  He  was  sitting  on  a  split-bottom  chair,  on  one" 
side  of  the  fire-place.  Under  him,  with  his  head  jiccring  out  be- 
tween the  rounds,  sitting  on  his  hind  legs,  and  standing  on  his  foi*e 
legs,  was  a  small  yellow  (log,  without  tail  or  cars.  This  dog's  name 
was  Rum.     How  he  came  by  it  1  never  knew      It  was,  I  suppose, 


HITMOKOIIS  TALES.  71 

given  merely  arbitrarily.  I  have  IVcqucutly  had  occasion  to  no- 
tice that  school-masters,  as  a  class,  are  wont  to  bestow  uncommon 
names  upon  not  only  their  children,  but  their  dogs,  and  even  tlicir 
horses,  whenever  they  appear  to  have  any  of  the  last  mentioned 
species  of  property. 

On  the  other  side  ot  the  fire-place,  in  another  split  bottom,  sat. a 
tall,  raw-boned  woman,  with  the  reddest  eyes  that  I  have  ever  seen. 
This  was  Mrs.  Mehitablo,  Mr.  Lorriby's  wife. 

When  I  had  surveyed  these  three  personages,— this  satyr  of  a 
man,  tiiis  tailless  dog,  and  this  red-eyed  woman,  a  sense  of  fear  and 
helplessness  came  over  me,  such  as  I  had  never  felt  before,  and 
have  never  Iclt  since.  I  looked  at  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  but  he  wan 
observing-  another  pupil  and  did  not  notice  mc.  The  other  pupils, 
eightecn'or  twenty  in  number,  seemed  to  be  in  deep  meditation. 
My  eyes  passed  from  one  to  another  of  the  objects  of  my  dread,  but 
they  became  finally  fastened  upon  the  dc^g.  His  eyes  also  had 
wandered,  but  only  with  vague  curiosity  around  upon  all  the 
pupilg,  until  they  became  finally  fixed  upon  me.  We  gazed  at  e^ch 
other  several  moments.  Though  he  sat  still,  and  I  sat  still,  it 
seemed  to  mc  tliat  we  were  drawing  continually  nearer  to  each 
other.  Suddenly  I  lifted  up  my  voice  and  screamed  with  all  ray 
might.  It  was  so  sudden  and  sharp  that  every  body  except  the 
woman  jumped.  She  indifferently  pointed  to  the  dog.  ITer  husband 
arose,  came  to  mo,  and  in  soothing  tones  asked  what  was  the  matter. 

'I  am  scared  !'  I  answered,  as  loud  as  I  could  speak. 

'Scared  of  what,  my  little  man  ?  of  the  dog  ?' 

'I  am  scared  of  all  of  you  I' 

He  laughed  with  good  humor,  bade  mc  not  be  afraid,  called  up 
Rum,  talked  to  us  both,  enjoined  upon  us  to  be  friends,  and  prophe- 
(Med  that  we  would  be  such — the  best  that  had  ever  been  in  the 
world.  The  little  creature  became  cordial  at  once,  reared  his  fore 
feet  upon  his  master,  took  them  down,  reared  them  upon  me,  and  in 
the  absence  of  a  tail  to  wag,  twisted  his  whole  hinder  parts  in 
most  violent  assurance  that  if  I  should  say  the  word  we  were  friends 
already.  Such  kindness,  and  so  unexpected,  dissolved  my  appre- 
hensions. I  was  in  a  condition  to  accept  terms  far  less  liberal.  So 
T  acceded,  and  went  to  laughing  outright.  Every  body  laughed, 
and  Rum,  who  could  do  nothing  better  in  tliat  line,  ran  about  and 
barked  as  joyously  as  any  dog  with  a  tail  could  have  done.  In  the 
afternoon  when  scliool  was  dismissed,  I  invited  Rum  to  go  iionic 
with  mo  ;  but  he,  waiting  as  I  supposed,  for  a  more  intimate  ac- 
(juaintance,  declined. 

CHAPTER  III. 

It  was  delightful  to  consider  how  auspicious  a  beginning  I  had  made. 

Other  little  boys  profited  by  it.     Mr.  Lorriby   had  no  desire  to  lose 


72  HTSIOEOUS  TALES. 

any  of  his  scliolars,  and  xre  all  were  disposed  to  make  as  much  of 
advauta<je  as  possible  of  his  apprehension,  however  unfounded,  that 
on  account  of  our  excessive  timidity,  our  parents  might  remove  us 
from  the  school.  Besides,  we  knew  that  we  were  to  lose  nothinj^  by 
beinf^  on  friendly  terras  with  Kuni.  The  dread  of  the  teacher's 
wife  coon  passed  away.  She  had  but  little  to  say  and  less  to  do. 
Nobody  had  any  notion  of  any  reason  which  &hc  had  for 
coming  to  the  eehool.  •  At  first  she  ocoasionly  heard  a  spelling: 
class  recite  After  a  little  time  she  he^^an  tor.omo  niuch  lef.s  often. 
^ad  in  a  few  weeks  her  visits  hud  decreased  to  one  in  several  days. 
Mr,  Lorriby  was  not  of  the  sort  of  schoolmasters  whom  men  use 
to  denominate  by  the  title  of  knock-down  and  dra.o;  out.  Ho  was 
not  such  a  man  as  Isiacl  Meadows.  But  althou£^h  he  was  good 
hearted  enough,  he  was  somewhat  politic  also.  Being'  a  new  comer, 
and  beinjy  pour,  he  determined  to  manage  his  busniesB  with  due  re- 
gard to  the  tastes,  the  wishes,  and  the  prejudices  of  the  community 
in  v/hich  he  labored.  He  decidedly  preferred  a  mild  reign  but  it  was 
Gaid  he  could  easily  accommodato  himself  to  those  who  required 
a  move  vigorous  policy,  He  soon  learned  that  the  latter  was  the  fa  • 
vni'ite  here.  People  cemplained  that  there  was  little  or  no  whip- 
ping. Some  who  had  read  the  fable  of  the  frogs  who  desired  i> 
Boverei.a'n,  were  heard  to  declare  that  Josiah  Lorriby  was  no  better 
than  'Old  King- Log.'  One  patron  spoke  of  taking  his  ^children 
horae,placing  the  boy  at  the  plough  and  the^girl  at  the  spinning  wheel. 

Persons  in  those  days  loved  their  children,  doubtless,  as  well  zb 
uow  ;  but-thoy  had  some  strange  ways  of  showing  their  love.  The 
strangest  of  all  was  the  evident  gratification  which  the  former  felt 
when  the  latter  were  whipped  at  school.  While  they  all  had  a  no- 
tion that  education  was  something  which  it  was  desirable  to  get,  it 
was  believed  that  the  impartati^n  of  it  needed  to  be  conducted  in 
most  mysterious  ways.  The  school-house  of  that  day  was,  in  a 
manner,  a  cave  of  Trophonius,  into  which  urchins  of  both  sexes  en- 
tered amid  c6rtain  incomprehensiblo  ceremonies,  and  were  ever- 
lastingly subject  and  used  to  bo  wliirlcd  about,  bodj-  and  soul,  in  a 
vortex  of  confusion.  I  migijt  pursue  the  analogy  and  any  that, 
like  the  votaries  of  Traphonius,  they  were  not  wont  to  smile  until 
long  after  this  violent  and  rotary  indoctrination,  but  rather  to 
v.'eep  and  lament,  unless  they  were  brave  like  Apollonius,  or  big 
like  Allen  Tiiigpen,  and  so  cnuld  bully  the  priest  far  enough  to  have 
the  bodily  rotation  dispensed  with.  According  to  these  i;otion8, 
the  principles  of  the  education  of  books  were  not  to  be  addressed 
to  tbcmiTid  and  to  the  heart;  but,  if  they  were  expected  to  stick,  they 
must  be  beaten  with  rods  into  the  back.  Through  this  ordeal  of 
painful  csremonies  bt'.d  the  risen  geaeraiion  gone,  r-^-^  *brough  the 


ETirOEOirS  TALES. 


fc 


same  ordeal  they  honesty  believed  that  tho  prcsent^  generation 
ought  to  go,  and  must  go.  No  exception  was  made  in,  favor  or 
genius.  Its  back  was  to  be  kept  as  sore  as  stupidity's;  toi',  being- 
yoked  with  the  latter,  it  must  take  tho  blows,  the  oaths,  and  tho 
irnprecaiinns.  I  can  account  foi'  these  things  in  no  of  her  way  than 
by  supposit!^^  that  the  o'd  act  of  poi'sons  had  come  out  cf  the  old 
S)?stein,  witli  minds  'so  bewildered  as  to  be  ever  afterwards  incapa- 
ble of  thinking  upon  it  in  a  i-easonable  manner.  In  one  respect  there 
is  a  couGiderable  likeness  between  mankind  and  some  individuals  of 
the  brute  creation.  The  dog'  seems  to  love  best  that  niitster  who 
beats  him  before  giving  him  a  bone.  I  have  heard  persons  say, 
(those  who  had  carefully  studied  the  nature  andhabita  of  the  mule,) 
that  he  is  wont  to  evince  a  gratitude,  ''somewhat  touching,  whni  a. 
bundle  of  fodder  is  thrown  to  him,  at  the  close  of  a  d<iy  on  which 
ha  has  boon  driven  within  an  inch  ol"  his  life.  So  with  tlie  good 
people  ,of  Ibrmer  times.  They  had  been  beaten  so  constantly,  and 
tio  mysteriousl}'  at  school,  that  they  seemed  to  entertain  a  gratefol 
effeition  for  it  ever  afterwards,  it  was,  therefore,  with  feeling's  of 
benign  satisfaction,  sometimes  not  unmixed  with  an  innocent 
gayety  of  mind,  that  they  were  wont  to  listen  to  their  children 
when  thtjy  complained  oC  the  thrashings  they  daily  received  some 
of  which  would  i>e  wholly  unaccountable.  Indeed  tiie  latter  sort 
seemed  to  be  considered,  of  all  others,  the  most  salutary.  When 
the  punishment  was  graduated  by  the  offense,  it  was  supporting  too 
great  a  likeness  to  the  affairs  of  every  day  life  and,  therefore,  want- 
ing in  solemn  impressiveness.  But  wiien  a  school  ma'^ter,  for  no  ac- 
countable reason,  whipped  a  boy,  and  so  set  his  mind  in  a  stuteof 
utter  bewilderment  as  to  what  could  be  the  matter,  and  tho  mosl 
vague  speculations  upon  what  was  to  become  of  him  in  this  world, 
to  say  nothing  af  the  nest ,  ah!  then  it  was  that  the  experienced 
felt  a  happiness  that  was  gently  ex^tatic  They  recurred  in  their 
minds  to  their  own  school  time,  and  they  cojicludeJ  that^  as  these 
things  had  not  killed  them,  they  must  have  done  thsni  good.  So 
some  of  our  good  mothers  in  Israel,  on  occasions  rf  great  religous 
excitement,  as  they  bend  over  a  shrieking*  sinned,  smile  in  sereuo 
happiness  as  they  fan  his  throbbing  tcmplea,  and  fondly  cncoura':ro 
him  to  shriek  on  ;  thinking  of  the  pit  from  which  they  were  digged, 
and  of  the  rock  upon  whicls  now  they  are  st-Jinding,  they  she- 
sing,  and  fan,  and  fanning  over,  continue  to  sing  und  sho-aV 

^ HAPTEr  . 

When  Mp.  Lorribv  liaJ  /  •                 occamc 

a  cew  man.    Om;  ^Monday   ■. -liin;:  o  turu 

over  a  new  leaf,  and  be  weot  straightw  D'ght 

several  bojs,  trom  small  to  mediam,  bau  -jy.v  t.vj^  -.                       ."nun  on 


34:  fTTMOKOUS  TALES. 

the  girls  except  ia  ouc  iustauco.  lu  Ibatj  I  will  remcnibci-  the  surprize  I  felt  at 
the  manner  in  which  her  case  was  disposed  of.  Ller  name  was  Susan  Pot- 
t<T.  She  was  about  twelve  years  old.  and  well  [^rown.  When  she  was  called 
up.  inquiry  was  made  by  the  master  if  any  boy  present  was  willing  to  take  upon 
iiimself  the  punishment  which  must  otherwise  fall  upon  her.  After  a  momenta 
silence,  Seaborn  Byne,  a  boy  of  fourteen,  ro-se  and  presented  himself,  lie  was 
good  tempered  and  fat,  and  his  pants  and  round  jacket  fitted  him  closely,  lie 
advanced  with  the  air  o(  a  man  who  was  going  to  do  what  was  right,  with  no 
thought  of  consequences.     Miss  Totter  unconcernedly  went  to  her  scat. 

But  Seaborn  soon  evinced  that  he  was  dissatisfied  with  a  bargain  that  was- 
.-0  wholly  without  consideration.  I  believed  then,  and  1  believe  to  this  day 
but  for  bis  beinir  so  good  a  mark  he  would  have  received  fewer  stripes.  But 
his  round  fat  body  and  legs  stood  so  temptingly  before  the  rod.  and  the  latter 
fell  upon  good  llcsh  so  entirely  through  its  whole  length,  that  it  was  really  banl 
to  stop,  lie  roared  with  pain  so  unexpectedly  severe,  and  violently  rubbed 
each  .^pot  of  recent  infliction.  WJicii  it  was  over  bo  came  to  bis  scat  and  looked 
at  Susan  Potter.  She  seeinod  to  feel  like  laughing.  Seaborn  got  no  sym- 
pathy, except  from  a  source,  which  he  despised,  that  was  his  younger  brother, 
.loel.     doel  was  weeping  in  secret. 

'Shut  up  your  mouth,'  whispered   Seaborn,  threatningly — and  Joel  shut  up. 

Then  I  distinctly  heard  Seaborn  mutter  the  following  words : 

'Kf  I  ever  takes  another  for  her.  or  for  any  of 'era,  may  1  be  dinged,  and  then 
dug  up  and  dinged  over  again.' 

1  have  no  doubt  tliat  lie  kept  hi.s  oath,  for  1  continued  to  know  Seaborn 
Byne  until  ho  was  an  old  man,  and  I  never  knew  a  person  who  persistently 
held  that  vicarious  system  of  school  punishment  in  deeper  diigust.  What  Ms 
ideas  were  about  being 'dinged,'  and  about  th  it  operation  being  repeated,  I  did 
not  know,  but  1  supposed  that  was  somellnng,  thai,  if  ])OPsiblo,  bettor  be 
avoided. 

Such  doings  as  these  made  a  great  change  in  the  leelings  of  us  little  ones. 
Vet  I  continued  to  run  the  crying  schedule.  It  failed  al  last,  and  I  went 
under. 

Mr.  l^ortiby  laiu  it  upon  nu  remorselessly.  1  had  never  dreamed  that  b<' 
would  give  me  .such  a  flogging — me  who  considered  myself,  as  every  body  els<' 
considered  rac — a  fuvoriir.  Ts'ow*the  charm  was  gone  ;  llie  charm  of  Fccurity 
It  made  me  very  sad.  I  lost  my  love  (or  the  teacher.  1  even  grew  cold  to 
wards  Rum,  and  Hum  in  liis  turn  grew  cold  towaids  nie. 

In  a  short  time  Mr.  Lorri  ly  had  gone  as  nearly  all  around  the.school  as  il 
was  prudent  to  go.  Mvery  boy  l_>ut  two  had  received  his  portion, — some  onc^^ 
some  several  time.'^.  The.'^e  iwo  were  ^Ir.  Bill  '^  illiams,  and  anotkn-  big  boy, 
named  .Jeremiah  llobbes.  These  were,  of  course,  as  secure  against  harm  from 
Mr.  Lorriby  as  they  would  have  been  had  be  been  in  (Juinea.  lOvery  girl  also 
had  been  flogged,'  or  had  had  a  boy  flogged  IVr  her,  exeef)t  Betsy  Ann  Aery, 
the  belle  of  tlio'achool.  She  was  u  iightdiaired,  bhic-cyed,  plump,  delicious 
lookinu- girl,  fourteen  years  old.  Now  for  Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery,  as  it  w:is 
known  to  every  body  about  the  school  house,  Mr.  Bill  Williams  had  apjrtiali 
ty  which,  thou,i;h  not  avowed,  was  decided,  lie  had  never  courted  her  in  in-t 
words,  but  he  liad  oliservcd  her  from  day  to  day,  and  noticed  her  liponing  into 
waiuanbood,  with  constantly  increasing  desire.  He  was  scarcely  a  match  for 
her  eveu  if  they  both  hail  been  in  condition  to  marry.  He  knew  this  very  well. 
But  coneideratious  <•(  llii ;  furl,  poldom  di)  a  young  man  any  good.     More  often 


irUMOROUS  TALES.  *  •> 

than  otherwise  they  make  him  worse.  At  least  such  was  their  effect  upou  Mr. 
Bill.  The  greater  tbe  distance  '  ctween  dim  and  Miss  Betsy  Aun,  the  more  he 
yearnedj  acrcss  it.  lie  sat  in  school  where  ho  could  always  see  her,  and  oli  I 
how  he  eyed  her.  Ofteu,  often  have  I  noticed  ]\Ir.  Bill,  leaning  the  side  of  his 
head  upon  his  arms,  extended  on  the  desk  in  front  of  him,  and  looking  at  her 
with  a  countenance  which,  it  f^oemed  to  nic,  ought  to  have  made  some  imprc?- 
aion.  Betsy  Ann  received  all  of  this  as  if  it  was  no  more  than  she  was  enti- 
tled to,  but  showed  no  sign  whetliCr  she  set'  any  value  upon  the  possession  or 
not.    Mr.  Bill  hoped  she  did  :  the  rest  of  us  believed  she  did  not. 

Mr.  Bill  had  another  ambition,  which  was,  if  possible,  even  higher  than  th(? 
winning  of  ]^Iis3  Aery.  Having  almost  extravagant  notions  of  the  greatness 
of  Dukesborough,  and  the  distinction  of  being  a  resident  within  it,  he  had  long 
desired  to  go  there  as  a  clerk  in  a  store,  lie  had  made  repeated  applications 
to  be  taken  in  by  Messrs.  BlamI  &  Jones,  and  it  was  in  obedience  to  a  hint  from 
those  gentlemen  that  he  had  determined  to  take  a  term  of  finishing  oft"  at  the 
school  of  Mr.  Lorriby.  This  project  was  run  out  of  his  mind,  even  in  moments 
of  his  foudcst  imaginings  about  Miss  Betsy  Ann.  It  would  have  been  not  easy 
to  gay  wliich  he  loveJ  the  best.  'The  clerkship  seoned  to  become  nearer  and 
nearer,  after  each  Saturday's  visit  to  town,  until  at  last  he  had  a  distinct  otTo:- 
of  the  place.  The  salary  w-as  small,  but  he  waived  that  consideration  in  view  ol 
the  exaltation  of  the  office,  and  the  greatness  of  living  in  Dukesl>orough.  IFo 
accepted,  to  enter  upon  his  dotiea  in  four  weeks,  when  the  quarter  session  of  the 
school  would  expire.        ,.  . 

The  dignified  ways  of  Mr.  Bill  after  this,  made  considerable  impression  upon 
all  the  school.  Even  Betsy  Ann  condescended  to  turn  her  eyes  oftener  in  the 
direction  where  he  happened  to  be,  and  he  was  almost  inclined  to  glory  in  the 
hope  that  the  possession  of  one  dear  object  would  draw  the  other .  alonp  with  it. 
At  least  he  felt  that  if  he  should  lose  the  latter,  the  former  would  be  the 
highest  consolation  which  he  could  ask.  The  news  of  the  distinguished  honor 
that  had  brcn  conferred  upon  him,  reached  the  heads  of  the  school  early  on  the 
Monday  following  the  eventful  Saturday  when  the  business  was  done.  1  say 
heads,  for  of  late  Mrs.  Mchitablc  came  with  her  husband  almost  every  day. 
She  received  the  nnuounccmcnt  without  emotion.  Mr.  Lorriby,  on  the  other 
hand,  in  spite  of  the  prospect  of  losing  a  scholar,  was  almost  extravagant  in  :iis 
congratnlatiouF. 

'It  was  a  honor  to  the  whole  school,'  lie  sail. 

'I  feel?,  it  inys:'ir.  Sich  it  war  under  all  the  eiieumsianee.  It  »>as  olileeged 
to  be,  and  sich  it  war,  and  as  it  war  sich,  I  lecls  it  myself.' 

Seaborn  B.vn«  heard  thrs  speeclt  Tnnnediately  afterwards  iio  tnrncd  to  me 
and  whispered  the  following  comnrent : 

'Up  h(^  iliii'^c^il '    TIio  .Ivnteful  old  son-of-a-bitcli !' 

CITAPTBPw  V. 

It  was  the. unanimous  epinion  amongst  Mr.  Lorriby's  pupils  1  hat  he  w.i 
grossly  inconsistent  with  himself;  that  he  ought  to  have  begun  wHh  the  rigid 
policy  .nl  first,  or  to  have  held  to  the  mild.  Having  oucQ  enjoyed  the  sweets 
of  the  latter,  thought;^  would  oecBsionally  rise  and  (juestions  v/ould  lie  asked 
Seaborn  I'.yne  was  not  exactly  the  head,  but  ho  w.xs  certainly  the  orator  of  a 
revolutionary  party.  Not  on  his  own  account '  for  he  had  never  yet,  except  as 
tlx' volunnliiry  fuhstituti*  of  Mi  s  Sugan    Pnfler,   felt   npon    hi"   own  Ijody  tbe 


T:  ^TilOKOrS  TALES. 

rn.ci?  01 :  10  cb'.inge  of  (li?cipliac.     Xor  did  beseem  to  >nve  any  apprehension? 
on  that  score.     He  even  went  so  far  as  to  saj  to  Mr.   Bll    VMijiams,   who  bad 

Elay'ullysag^eslwl  tlie  ba<-e  iifea  of  siicli  a  thin;?,  that  'of  o'd  Jo  Lorriby  rnipcd 
is'old  pole  o;i  liiir,  lie  woii^d  put  his  lizzard,'  (as  Seaborn  fucotionply  called  his 
kiiife ) 'inloliis  paunch.  This  ih.cat  had  made  his  brother  Joel  cxtrenu'iy 
unl'Hppr.  Hi'<iitl!e  heart  was  bowed  down  with  the  never  resting  fear  and  U^ 
liel  lliat  Seaborn  whs  destine!  t^  commit  the  crime  of  murder  npon  the  body  of 
Mr.  Lorriby.  On  the  oiher  (.and  Seaborn  was  con.«tantly  vexed  by  the  sight 
of  th?  f  cores  orflpgfrings  whicii  Joel  rcwivcd.  Poor  Joel  had,  somehow,  in  the 
bcgi.'-i'iiir  of  hia  stndies,  gotten  upon  the  wrong  road,  and  as  nobody  ever 
brcuahi  J.iij  back  to  the  startintr  point,  lie  wasdosliaed,  it  seemed,  to  wander 
about  lost  ererjjiore.  The  more  flos^giogs  bo  pot,  t!ie  more  hopelf-ss  and  wild 
■were  his  c9brt:j  nt  exti'icjtliDn.  Jt  was  unforUinatc  for  hi  i  i bat  his  brotber 
looV  any  interest  ii  his  C'.)cdi(iou.  Seaborn  had  great  c<>bl. '.'nipt  for  him,  b"jt 
yet  he  remembered  tliat  he  was  his  brotber,  and  hia  i)rother'3  hc-art  woa'd  not 
allow  itself  to  feci  no  concern.  That  concern  manifccted  itself  in  endeavoring 
to  teach  Joi;!  himself  out  of  school,  and  in  flrggiog  him  himself,  by  way  of  pre- 
venting JoelM)aving  to  submit  to  that  disgrace  at  the  hands  ol  old  Joe.  Sa 
ess?'  r  wag  Seaborn  in  this  brotlierly  d(^^i<^n,  and  so  indocile  was  Joel,  that  for 
I  very  fioggir.^  which  the  l^it'cr  rtco; sod  Irom  the  master,  he  got  from  two  to 
ihree  from  Seaborn.  Amongst  all  these  evil?,  floggings  from  Mr.  Lorriby, 
floj.>ginL's  fium  Seaborn,  and  the  abiding  upprtWieuaion  that  the  forme  waades- 
t'ned  to  be  kilie.^  by  the  httter,  Joel  B}ue  was  a  cass  wkidi  was  to  be  pitied. 

■It  ar'  a  disgrace,'  faid  Mr.  Bill  to  mo,  one  morning  as  we  were  going  to 
Kcbool ;  'and  1  wish  Mr.  Larrabcj  iaiov./Gd  it.  Betwixt  him  and  Sebe  that 
little  inneroent  individiel  ar'  bent  onbein'  csoded  up.  It  beats  all  natur.  Ole 
Ldrrabeear'  bad  cnougli,  but  Scbe  ar'  wupser  yit.  The  case  ar'  wusser  than  if 
there  was  two  Larraber-.i".  !•:  all  my  experence  I  has  not  seed  jist  sich  a  cast. 
Ttnr'  beyant  hope.' 

Mr.  Bill's  sympathy  •>,<.  ..■.  uau  aTioua,  aud  almost  gloomy.  I  believe  th»it  at 
that  u:oment  both  B?tsy  Ann  Aery  and  the  clerkship  were  out  of  his  mind.  The 
road  an  wiwch  thn  Byi.^'s  came  to  scl.ool  met  ours  a  few  rods  from  the  Spring, 
we  were  now  at  the  :  vcr  place.  Mr.  Bill  had  scarcely  finished  bis  last  sen- 
tencf  when  we  hcaid  behind  us  the  screams  of  a  child.  "VTe  should  have  be«'n 
much  alarmed  if  we  h;id  not  known  where  they  were  and  what  was  their  cause. „ 
'Thar  it  13  agi: ,'  said  Mr.  Bill ;  'at  it  good  and  soon.  If  do  beat  everytbiog 
ia  this  blessed  world,  cf  it  don't,  ding  me.' 

We  looked  behind  us.  Here  came  Joel  at  full  spee  ;,  hatles-o,  his  spelling 
book  in  one  hand,  and  his  dinner  basket,  wilbout  cover,  hanging  from  <he  other, 
screaming  wiih  all  his  might.  Fjfty  yards  behind  him  ran  Stuborn,  who  had 
betn  delayed,  us  it  seemed,  by  having  to  .stop  to  pick  up  the  bucket  cover  and 
Joel's  hat,  r.s  ho  had  Ihem  both  in  his  hands. 
'Stop,  you  fonol-.t' bitch,'  he  cried.  ^        ", 

Just  before  reaching  the  spot  where  we  were,  he  overtook  the  lugitive,  threw 
him  down,  took  out  of  his  baud  the  spelling  book,  opened  it.  nnd  then  getting 
upon  him,  fastening  his  arms  with  bin  ow-n  knees,  'Now,-'  said  .':e,  'yoa  rastal, 
spell  crucifix.' 

Joel  attempted  to  obey. 

'S  again,  you  little  devil !  S-i,  si  1  Ding  my  skin,  if  you  shan't  larn  it  ef  I 
have  to  cram  every  bit  of  it  intoo  your  mouth  with  ray  fist.' 


HTJM0E0U3  TALES.  t7 

'Look  a  here,  Sebe  I'  interposed  Mr.  Bill ;  fan's  fun,  but  too  much  is  too 
much.' 

Now  what  these  words  were  intended  to  be  preliminary  to,  there  waa  no  op 
portunity  of  ascertaining;  for  jtisUhen  Mr.  Jo-iuh  Lorriby,  who  bad  diwrged 
from  his  own  way  in  order  to  drink  at  the  spring,  presented  himself. 

'What  air  you  about  thar,  Sebion  Byne?' 

Seaborn  arose,  and  though  he  considered  bis  conduct  not  only  judtifiablo.  but. 
proper,  he  looked  a  little  crest-fallen. 

'Ah,  indeed!'  You're  the  a?sist!\iit  teacher,  air  you?  Tn<erferi.»g  with  my 
business,  and  my  rights,  aad  my  duties,  and  my  •^,  hen>.  L?t  u-;  all  jjo  to  tho 
Bchocl-hoHse  now.  Mr.  Bynewill  manage  buHineps  hereafter.  I.  nsorme,  T 
aint  no  whar  now.    Conae,  Mr.  Bjne,  lef?3  go  to  school.' 

Mr.  L:irriby  and  Seaborn  went  on,  side  by  bide.    Mr.  Bill   looked   f  ■ 

were  highly  sjratificd.    'Ei  he  don't  get  it  now,  he  never  will.' 

Alas  for  Joe! !  Delivered  from  Seab.'r;;.  he  was  yet  more  miserable  1h;ja  be 
fore,  and  he  fnrgot  his  own  gfiefa  in  his  pity  iV.r  the  impending  flite  o(  Mr.  Lorriby 
and  his4  apprehension  for  the  nltimatc  crnpequence  of  ibis  diy'e  work  tobif~- 
brother.     He  palled  me  alittlc  behinil  Miv  R:'!.  nd  tremblini^ly  whi?perrd  : 

'Poor  Mr.  Lorriby !    Do  j'oa  reckon  '  ini^'Seaby,  Phil  ?' 

'What  for?'  I  asked.  _        "^ 

'For  killing  Mr  Lorriby  T    ' 

I  answered  tli^^  I  hoped  not.  This  was  a<i  far  as  I  could  go,  (or.  I  had  sotrf" 
confidence  my.ioir  in  Seaborn'i,  dc-yperatc  resolati.  n. 

The  matter  was  settled  before  we  two  had  reac  c  !  'be  houf.e.  Aa  we  got  to 
the  door  Mr.  Lorriby  began  to  lay  on,  and  Seaborn  to  roar.  The  laying:  on 
and  the  roaring  lasted  until  the  n:aslcr  was  satisfied.  Joel  and  1  had  staid  cut- 
eide.  When  it  was  over  I  looked  into  Joel's  face.  It  wag  radiant  with  joyful 
emilea.  Happy  little  feik%vr !  .Seibri-n  wonld  not  be  hung!  That  delnsior. 
wf«.«i  gone  forever. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

Having  broken  Ihb  ice  upon  .Seaborn,  Mr.  Lorriby  went  into  the  sport  of 
flogging  him  whenever  ht^  felt  like  it.  Seoborn's  revolutionary  senti- 
menta  grew  deeper  and  fitio:!-cr  cousianUy.  But  he  was  now,  ot  courco,  hope- 
ks?  of  accomplishing  any  results  bim'elf,  an^i  hs  knew  that  the  only  chance" 
wero  to  enlist  Jeremiah  Hobbe.?,  or  Mr.  Bill  Willianas,  and  make*  him  the 
leader  in  the  enterprise.  Yorj  foon,  however,  one  of  these  chonrc3  was  lo-t. 
Hobbcs  received  and  aoc;'|)tf<l  an  oft>r  to  become  an  overseer,  and  Sfaborn'« 
hope?  were  now  fixed  upon  Mr.'  Bill  alone.  Tliat  also  M-as  destined  soon  to  be 
lost  by  the  lat'er's  pro-pectire  clerkship.  Besides.  Mr.  Bi.l  being  even 'em- 
pered,  and  never  having  r'^.-i-lved,  and  beino  narcr  likely  to  receive  any  provo- 
cation from  Mr.  Lorriby.  the  prf:ope<t  <^f  making  anylhifig  ontcfhimwas 
gloomy  enough.  In  vn in  Seaborn  rai.9ed  iuundoes  concerning  his  phick.  In 
vain  he  tried  every  o  her  expedient,  even  to  Fccrctly  drawing  on  Mr.  Bill's  slat« 
A  p'cturc  of  a  very  liltle  nvui  flogging  a  very  big  boy,  having  writlen  aawell 
as  he  could,  tne  name  of  Mr.  Lorriby  near  the  former,  aid  thai  of  Mr.  Bill  near 
the  latter.  Seaborn  could  not'  di.«-sruise  himself,  and  Mr.  Bill,  when  r.e  saw  t'e 
pictures,  informed  the  .'uist  that  if  he  did-  not  mind  wliat  he  .wa*  about,  he 
would  get  a  worse  b^alin?  than  ever  Joe  Lirrabno  guve  hio?.  S  aborn  hdi' 
but  one  hope  left ;  bat  that  involved  some  little  delicacy,  and  could  be  managed 
only  by  its  own  circumatances.    It  might  do.oad  it  might  not  do.    -If  Seaboro 


'  lit  M<>i:(,i(  .3  'J Aij 

liud  been  u  i>r.'iyinjj  boy,  lie  would  luivc  i)r:iyoil  that  il  unylliing  was  to  lie  iniule 
out  of  this,  it  would  come  before  Mr.  P.ill  should  leave.  Sure  eiioii>ili  it  did 
come,  .lust  one  week  before  the  quarter  was  out,  il  came.  Seaborn  was  in 
ecstaciea.   Let  us  see  what  it  was  that  so  exalted  him. 

Miss  ]ictsy  Anil  Aery  had  herctorore  escaped  concclion  for  any  of  her  short 
comings, although  they  were  not fiw.  Hho  was  fond  o(  mischief,  and  no  more 
afraid  of  Mr.  liorriby  than  Mr.  r.ill  Williams  was.  Indeed,  I\Ii.s3  lietsy  Ann 
considered  herself  to  be  a  woman,  and  she  had  been  heard  to  say  that  a  whip 
pintr  was  something  which  she  would  talce  from  nobody.  Mr.  l^orriby  smiled 
at  her  mischievous  tricks,  but  Mrs.  Ijorriby  frowned.  These  ladies  became  to 
dislike  each  other.  The  younger,  when  in  her  frolics,  frequently  noticed  the 
elder  give  her  husliand  a  look  which  was  expressive  of  much  meaning.  Seaborn 
had  aho  noticed  thi^,  and  the  worse  Miss  Aery  grew,  the  oftcner  IMrs.  Lorriby 
came  to  the  school,  lie  had  come  to  believe  fully  that  the  object  which  the 
female  Lorriby  had  in  coming  at  all  was  to  protect  the  male.  A  bright  thought ! 
fie  communicated  it  to  Miss  Aery,  and  slyly  hinted  several  times  that  he  he- 
lieycd  she  was  afraid  of  Old  lied  Eye,  "as  he  denominated  the  master's  wife. 
Miss  Aery  indignantly  repelled  cvei7  such  insinuation,  and  became  only  the 
bolder  in  what, fihe  said  and  what  she  did.  Seaborn  knew  that  the  Larriby's 
were  well  aware  of  Mr.  1  Jill's  preference  for  the  girl,  and  he  intensely  enjoyed 
her  temerity.  But  it  was  hard  to  satisfy  him  that  she  was  not  afraid  of  Old 
Red  Eye.  If  Old  Red  Eye  had  not  been  there,  IJetsy  Ann  would  have  done 
.'■o  and  so.  'J'hc  reason  why  she  did  not  do  so  and  so,  was  because  old  Ilcd  ]"^ye 
was  about.  Alas  for  human  nature — male  and  female !  lietsy  Ann  went  on 
and  on,  until  she  was  brought  to  a  halt.     The  occasion  was  thus  : 

There  was  in  the  school  a  boy,  off  bout  my  own  size,  and  ofavcarortwo 
older,  whose  name  was  Martin  Granger.  11c  was  somewhat  of  a  pitiful  looking 
creature — whined  when  he  spoke,  andVas  frequently  in  quarrels,  not  only  with 
the  boye,  but  with  the  girls,  lie  was  suspected  of  sometimes  ))laying  the  part 
of  spy  and  informant  to  the  Lorriby's,  both  of  whom  treated  him  with  more 
consideration  than  any  other  pupil  received,  except  Mr.  IJill  Williams.  Miss 
Uetsy  Ann  cordially  disliked  him,  and  she  honored  myself  by  calling  me  her 
favorite  in  the  whole  school. 

Now  Martin  and  myself  got  ourselves  very  unexpectedly  into  a  fight.  1  hiad 
divided  my  molasses  with  Iiim  at  dinner  time  for  weeks  and  weelcs.  A  few  of 
the  pupils,  whose  parents  could  afford  to  have  that  luxury,  were  accustomed  to 
carry  it  to  school  in  vial;-.  I  ni^ually  ate  my  part,  aficr  boreing  a  hole  in  my 
biscuit,  and  then  filling  it  up.  I  have  often  wished,  since  1  have  been  grown, 
that  I  could  relish  tliat  preparation  as  I  relished  it  when  a  boy.  Uut  as  wc 
grow  older  our  tastes  change.  l\Iartiu  Granger  relished  the  juicfl  even  more 
llinn  I.  In  all  my  observations.  I  have  never  known  a  person,  of  any  description, 
who  was  as  fond  of'molasscs  as  he  was.  It  did  nic  good  to  see  him  eat  it.|  lie 
never  Ijrougbt  any  himself,  but  he  u.scd  to  hint,  in  his  whining  way,  thqj  the 
time  was  not  distant  when  his  father  would  havi^  a  whole  keg  full,  and  when 
he  should  bring  it  to  school  in  his  father's  big  snufi'bottlc,  which  was  well  known 
to  us  all.  Although  I  was  not  so  sanguine  of  the  realization  of  this  pro.spcct  as 
he  seemed  t'.»  be,  yet  I  had  not  on  that  o.ccount  became  tired  of  furnishing  him. 
I  only  grew  tired  of  his  presence  while  at  my  dinner,  and  I  availed  myself  of  a 
trifling  dispute  one  day  to  slmt  down  upon  him.  I  not  only  did  not  invite  him 
to  partake  of  my  molasses,  but  I  rejected  his  proposition  to  do  so  without  invi- 
tation.   He  had  been  dividing  it  with  mc  so  long  that  I  believe  he  thought  my 


IIUM0K0U3  TALES.  iO 

I'igbt  to  cut  bmi  oli  now  was  stopped,  lie  watched  iiic  as_  I  Iwicd  ui.y  i.'^., 
and  poured  in,  and  ate,  and  even  wasted  the  precious  fluid.  I  could  no:  c 
same  it  all.  When  I  had  finished  eating,  I  poured  water  into  the  vial  ;  i 
made  what  we  called  'beverage.'  I  would  drink  a  little,  then  shuko  it  and  bo., 
it  up  before  mc.  The  golden  Imbbles  shown  gloriously  in  the  sun  light.  I  bad 
not  said  a  word  to  Martin  during  these  interesting  operation.^,  nor  even  looked 
towards  him.  But  I  knew  that  bis  eyes  were  upon  me  and  the  vial.  Just  as  I 
swollowed  the  last  drop,  his  full  heart 'could  Ijcar  no  more,  and  he  uttered  a  cry 
of  pain.  I  turned  to  him  and  asked  him  what  was  the  matter.  The  question 
seemed  to  bo  considered  as  adding  insult  to  injustice. 

'Corn  deternally  trive  your  devilish  bide,'  be  answered,  and  gave  me  the  full 
Ijcuelit  of  bis  clenched  hand  upon  my  stomach,  lie  was  afterwards  beard  to 
say  that  'thar  was  the  place  whar  be  wanted  to  hit  fust.'  We  closed,  scratched, 
pulled  hair,  and  otherwise  struggled  until  we  were  separated.  Martin  went 
immediately  to  Mr.  Lorriby,  gave  his  version  of  the  brawl,  and  just  as  the 
school  was  to  be  dismissed  for  the  day,  I  was-  called  up  and  flogged  without 
inquiry  and  without  explanation. 

Miss  Betsy  Ann  Aery  had  seen  the  fight.  When  i  came  to  my  scat,  crying 
bitterly,  her  indignation  could  not  contain  itself. 

'Mr.  Lorribee,'  she  said,  her  red  cheeks  growing  redder,  'you  have;  whipped 
that  boy  for. nothing.' 

Betsy  Ann,  with  all  of  her  pluck,  had  never  gone  so  far  as  this.  Mr.  Lorriby 
turned  pale  and  looked  at  his  wife.  Her  red  eyes  fairly  glistened  with  fire,  lie 
understood  it,  and  said  to  Betsy  Ana  in  a  hesitating  tone, — 

'You  had  better  keep  your  advice  to  yourself.' 

'1  did  not  give  you  any  advice.  I  just, said  yo"  whipped  that  boy  for  nofli 
ing,  and  I  said  the  truth.' 

'Aint  that  advice,  madam  ?' 

'I  am  no  madam,  I  thank  you,  sir  ;  and  if  that's  advice  — " 

'8het  up  your  mouth,  Betsy  Ann  Aery.' 

•Yes  sir,'  said  B.  A.,  very  loud,  and  she  fastened  her  pc(?tty,  pouting  lip>  U> 
gether,  elevated  her  bead,  mcliued  a  little  to  one  sidc,"and  scorned  amusedly 
awaiting  further  orders. 

The  iemalc  Lorriby  here  rose,  went  to  her  husband,  and  wbispcrod  earueslly 
to  him.     lie  hesitated  and  then  resolved. 

'Come  here  to  me,  T.etsy  Ann  Aery.' 

She  went  up  as  gaily  as  if  she  expected  a  present. 

'1  am  going  to  whip  Betsy  Ann  Aery.  VA'  any  boy  here  wants  to  take  it  for 
her,  he  can  no>v  step  forrards.' 

I5etsy  Ann  putlod  her  foot,  and  looked  neither  to  the  right  nor  to  the  left, 
nor  yet  behind  her.  ' 

When  a  substilutt!  was  invited  to  aiTpear,  the  house  was  as  .still  as  a  gri^'o 
yard.  I  rubbed  my  legs  apoligetically,  and  looked  up  at  Seaborn  who  sat  by 
me.  . 

'No  sir  ;  if  I  do  may  I  be  dinged,  and  then  dug  up  and  — '  I  did  not  listen 
to  the  remainder,  and  as  no  one  else  seemed  disposed  to  volunteer,  and  a4  tht: 
difiiculty  wius  brought  about  upon  my  own  aceonnt,  and  as  Betsy  Ann  liked  mc 
and  I  liked  l*.etsy  Ann,  1  made  a  desperate  resolution,  ami  rose  and  presented 
myself.     iJclsy  Ann  ap])eared  to  bo  disgusted. 

'I  don't  think  I  would   whij)  tliat   child  ' 

placi-  pspe(.-i;dlv  for  otlipr  folk'4I'iin"3.' 


80  HTiroHors  tales. 

I'bafa  jist  as  you  Ray. 

•Well,  I  eay  po  back  to  Svu,  .-   .;.  Thii. 

I  obeyed,  and  felt  relieved  and  proud  of  mrsclf.  Mr.  Lorriby  bepran  to 
?traiphu-nlii'= ':«itpl..  Tl.nT  ^  '^'  tl.,.  ..»her'  niipila,  looked  at  Mr.  Bill 
William 

L'iiAlTi.JLi  Ml. 

Oh!  what  an  arj:u!:  <  :i  ■.  j.- a;oing  on  in  Mr.  Dill's  breaet.  Vain  bad  been 
.•xH  cffor;  liriiiy  him  in  any  ^vay  in  collision  with  the  Lor- 

■■'b'cs.^   !  '!  out  or  all  comI)inQlion3   to  pet  a  littlo  holiday 

by  ao  inuuCic:,  l;a<J  been  ail  nppcale.  Lcretofore,  to  bis  syiu 

nathie^: :   *(>r  .  - 1    who    Lad    bu'n    lbrout,'h  the  ordeal  «f 

'^^";  ii*;vo  that  it  did  more   harm   than   good      If  it 

f'**^'  V  nil  Aery,  he  would   have   b^^n  unmoved.     But 

'^  '  had  been  often  heard  to  eny   that  if  Betsy  Ann 

-^'"'  .1.  he  should  t;ike  upon  himself  tho  responsibility 

olsi-viii-  uiai  iu:i;  iiiun  IJ-;  I  lonc.  And  now  that  continpency  hud  come.  Wha't 
ought  to  be  d  .ne  ?  How  wa.«  this  repponMhility  to  be  dif^cbarpcd?  Mr.  Bill 
wished  that  tlic  female  Lorribv  had  stayed  away  that  dav.  He  did  not  know 
exactly  why  he  wished  it,  butbe  wished  It.  To  add  to  his  other  difficultioa, 
Miss  iBetsy  Ana  had  never  pivca  any  token  of  her  reciprocation  of  his  regard ; 
for  now  that  the  novelty  of  the  future  clerkship  had  worn  away>  fhe  hod  r»^ 
tnroed  to  her  old  habit  of  never  seeming  to  notice  that  there  was  euch  a  pcrsoi 
a9  h  iff  self.  But  the  idea  of  a  switch  falling  upon  her,  whose  body,  trom  the 
crown  of  her  liead  to  tho  soles  of  her  feet,  was  so  precious  to  him,  outweighed 
every  other  consideration,  and  he  made  op  bis  mind  to  be  as  good  as  his  word, 
&ad  take  the  responsibility.  Just  as  the  male  Lorribv,  (the  female  by  his  Bide,) 
was  about  to  raise  the  switch. 

'Stop  a  minute,  Mr.  Lorrabec,'  he  exclaimed,  advancing  in  a  highly  excited 
manner. 

The  tpncber  lowered  his  arm  and  retreated  one  step,  looking  a  little  irreso- 
lute. His  wilij  advanced  one  Bfep.  and  looking  straipht  at  Mr.  Bill,  her  robast 
frame  rose  at  L'  ist  an  inch  higher. 

'Mr.  Larrabce  !  I — oh — don't  exactly  consider  mjt'cU— ah—  ..«  i  scholar 
l^ere  uow  ;  bocuu^e —  ah —  I  e.vpcntto  move  to  Dukcsborough  iu  a  few  days, 
and  kef  p  store  thur.  for  Mr.  Blaud  and  Jones.' 

To  bia  88  oui^hmcnt,  this  nnDoun(ement,  so  impressive  heretofore,  failed  of 
the  slightcit  effect  now,  when,  ol  nil  time?,  an  effect  was  de^^ircd.  Mr  Lor- 
riby,  iu  answer  t  i  a  e'gn  from  his  wiTc,  had  recovered  his  lost  ground,  and 
looked  placidly  upon  him.  but  answered  nothing. 

^  'I  £ov,'  repealed  Mr.  Bill  ^i.'Jtinctiyj  as  if  he  supposed  he  bad  not  been  heard. 
'I  say  limt  1  t-xpect  in  n  fiw  davs  to  move  to  Dukesboaough  ;  to  livo  thtr, 
to  keep  store  tLnr  for  Mr.  Bland  and  Jones.' 

•Well  Williams,  I  think  I  have  heard  that  before,  I  want  to  herr  yea 
talk  ai.out  ii  conie  tintt  when  it  aint  school  lime,  and  when  we  aint  so  buBy 
a»  we  nir  now  at  the  present. 

•We'I   b  :'  — •  persistcded  Mr:  Bil! 

'Well ,  bill  .'    enqnirfd  Mr.  L; 

'Yes  'ir.'  nrswer(d  ilie  former,  ins'stinplv: 

•\V<1I  but  what  ?  Is  this  cose  got  auyihing  to  do  ■with  It?  la  <&«  got 
any  thing  to  do  wjib  ii  ?' 


HUM0E0U3  TALES.  81 

'In  cose  it  have  not,'  answered  Mr:  B.,  sadly: 

'WelJ,  what  maljes  you  tell  us  of  it  now,  at  tho  present?'  Ohl  what  a 
big  word  was  that  ux,  then,  to  Jo.^iab  Lorriby. 

'Mr.  L'lrrabec,'  urged  Mi"  B.,  in  aa  persuasive  accents  as  he  could  em- 
plov  ;  'No  sir,  Mr;  Lirrab?e,  it  have  not  got  any  thing  to  do  with  it;  but  yet  — ' 

•Well— yit  what,  William  ?'  ~ 

'Well,  Mr. Lirrabee,  I  thought,  as  I  u'<v  a  poin  to  qui*-,  school  soon;  and 
aa  I  wai  a  goin  to  move  to  Duke?borcugh, — a<  I  u'as  a  coin  ri^U  ouUn 
your  echoo],  intoo  Dukesborongh  as  it  wor — to  keep  [-.tore  thar — may  be  yea 
moot,  np  a  favoc  do  me  a  favor  before  L  It  ft.' 

'Well !  may  I  be  dinced,  and  then  di:g  up  and  dinged  ovolp  acrin  I*  This  woa 
paid  in  aenppressfd  wbipper,  by  a  person  at  my  side.  'Beggio  I  bepgin  !  ding 
his  white-livered  hid-- — b  e-g-gin  !' 

'Why,  William,' replied  Mr.  L..' cf  it  w^re  convenanK  arid  iihe  favor  war 
HOT  too  much,  it  mout  be  that  I  mout  grant  it.'  v 

'I  thought  you  wonU,  Mr.  Larrabee.  The  favor  aint  a  big  one.  Lfs^t 
wayp,  it  niut  a  big  one  to  you.  It  would  b-:  a  mighty  — '  But  Mr.  Bi  1  Ihcugb': 
be  could  hardly  trust  himself  to  say  how  big  a  oce  it  would  be  to  himself. 

'Well,  what  is  it,  William  ?'  ,    • 

'Mr.  Larrabee  !-  Sir.  Mr.  Larrr.bce,  I  ax  't  as  a  favor  of  yc 
Beti'y  Ann — which  is  Miss  Betsy  Ann  Acrv.'     ' 

'Thar,  now  !' groaned  Scabon      .d  bowed.his  head  in  despair. 

The  mole  Larriby  looked  upon  the  female.  Her  face  had  relnxed  somewhat 
from  its  Btc-rn  expre-sion.  She  answered  his  glanco  by  one  which  implied  a 
conditional  affirmative. 

'Ef  Betsy  Ann  Aery  will  itibive  herself,  and  keep  her  impudence  to  herself 
I  will  let  her  ofi  this  time.' 

All  eyes  turned  to  BeUy  At  I  nev.  r  saw  her  look  so  fine  as  she  raised 
op  her  head,  to8?cd  her  ye'-  >  mglets  back,  and  said,  in  a  tonr?  increasing  in 
londnejB  from  beginning  to  vU(  ; 

'But  Betsy  Ann  Aery  wont  do  H.' 

'Hello  agin  tbarl'  whispered  Senbrrn,  ., ,o. ..  ,,,j  i. ..*...     li  .-  >i.yi".*  hope? 

of  a  big  row  were  revived.  This  vifas  the  Inst  opportunity,  and  ho  wa"^  as  eager 
at  if  the  last  dollar  he  ever  expected  to  make  haii  bc?n  pledged  upon  the  event. 
I  have  nexer  forgotten  his  appearance,  as  wilh  hi"  krrs  wi«Tc  opart,  his  hands 
upon  his  knees,  bia  lips  apiit,  but  his  teeth  nearly  ''-^i^  !;  gaz^d  upon  thai 
scene.'  '. 

'Lorriby,  the  male,  was  considerably   discOncer t(  ■  ;W  have  compro- 

promieed  ;  but  Lorriby,  the  female,  o^^ain.  in  nn   '  '   ber  hostile 

attitude,  and   this  time  her  great  fyf  looked  liko  She  c  in- 

centraied  their  gez:  upon  Betsy  Ann.  with  a  ferocity  w.iWa  was  appnlvng. 
Betsy  Ann  tried  to  meet  them,  and  did  for  one  nionent.  but  in  another  s-ii"  found 
she  could  not  hold  out  longer  ;  so  she  buried  her  face  in  her  hands  ^ud  sobbed. 
Mr.  Bill  could  endure  no  more. 

•The  fact  ar',' he  cried, 'that  1  am  goin   to   take  the  rtspoosibility.^  Conshe-. 
qoenches  may  be  coushe'ijuenche?,  but  I  shall  take  the  rospcpyibility.'    His 
countenance  was  that  of  a  mm  who  had   made  v.n  b's  ir-cd      Tt  bad  como  ot 
last,  and  we  were  perfectly  happy 


on   -Mr.    Hill.  ::iccd 

Ihom  OIlberBulr  .       i  l,v'    ,  ;.    l.:lUKdi:.Ul>  Inhuul  Ui5 

inntcsnght  arm,  while];,:  m.)    what    was  goin:,' on, 

came  up,  aud  BtundiDi,'  on  in   n:  n,        Kit,  icrirrd  iurioii-ly  up  at  Mr.  Hill. 

Seaborn  Byne  noticed  tlii^;  Iju-t  inuv.inent.  'W*!!.  d  that  don't  beat  crca 
lion.     Yoiiinit,  loo.  i:i>ui.  ?'-  i.^  tctth.    'Well,  n.  vcr  do 

you  mind.     lOf  J  don't  li\  you,  ill  never  know  uu  more 

I'ut  what  you've  /,'ot  a  l:iil,  iM.i\  i  ,  Ac. 

It  istrue  that  Seahorii  ii;Kl  1.   n  c  .    more  imporlant    work 

than  the  ncutraJizing  of  Kuiiis  lorc>  ;  .am.  i  i.;,  w  that  Mr.  Bill  wanted  and 
needed  no  assLjluncc  Wc  were  all  re.idy,  however ;  thfit  ii?,  1  should  siv  all 
but  Martin.     lie  had  no  1,'riory. and  therefore  no  desires. 

Such  was  Uic  height  of  Mr.  BillV  cxciteniCMt,  thaf  he  di<l  not  even  stem  to 
notice 'the  hostile  dcuionstrations  of  thc^^c  nunicni"  :» 1  vnriou^  foes.  His  mind 
was  mcdc  np,  and  he  was  -^'oio-  ri.£?ht  on  to  his 

'Mr.  I.orrabcc,'  ho  said,  liruily,  i  amgoin  to  .-jwnKibility.     1  axCd 

you  ai?  a  lavor  to  do  mc  a  favor  before  1  left.  1  aint  niucii  ii.'=cd  to  axin  livors ; 
but  .sich  it  war  now.  It  Bccms  us  cr  that  favor  cannoi  bo  L'mntcd.  Yoa,  Pich 
IS  tlje  circumaneos.  But  it  must  be  so.  Sense  I  have  been  hero  they  aint  k-cn 
no  difiicultics  betwixt  you  and  me,  nor  betwixt  laoand  JSliss  liarrabce,  and  no 
notbiu'  of  tlie  Fort,  not  evta  bistwixt  me  and  l{nm.  Sich,  therefore,  it w.is  why  I 
axod  the  favor  ns  a  favor.  But  il  can't  ')e  ho;  :d,  and  .^o  1  takc.^^  the  rcsjion.si 
ability.  Mr.  Larrabee,  nir,  and  you,  Mis.s  Ijanubec,  T  am  goin'  from  this  Bchool 
rii,^ht  intoo  J^ukesborough  straight  intoo  Mr.  T'.laud s  store,  to  clerk  ihar.  Sich 
bein'all  the  circumanccs,  iJiatef!  to  do  what  I  tell-  yon  I'm  goiu'  to  do  Miit 
it  can't  I)c  ho])cd  it  seem,  ami  J  ar'  goin'  to  do  ;i 

Mr.  IJill  announced  this  concluhion  in  a  very  vatod  tone. 

'Oh,  yes,  dinp:  your  old  hidr.s  c"  you,'  1  heard 

Mr.  Ijarralx^,  and  you,  IWi  J..4rral)oe,'  cont:  „j>uikcr,  '1  dot.  not  de- 

sires that  Betsy  Ann  Aery  f^hall  bi  whippc  d.  a  on  to  say,  that  us  sich  it 

ar',  and  as  f-ich  the  circumances,  Betsy  Ann  A  •im't  be  whipiK^l  whar  I  ar' 
ef  J  can  keej)  it  from  boiu'donc.' 

^  'You  harod  thnt.  -lidn'f  you  i?'  askod  Sraliorn.  Inr  but  crudiy  triumphant ;  and 
Soabonilookwl  :i!  : 'c^sidcrii  '  lu'viii  the  battlo  with  hiia 

Mrs.  liorraby.      .  .ke.     Wh^  .  wad  to  the  jiOint. 

'Yc.^,  but  VVeelliaui  Wcuiliamj,  yo;:  ;;  i;nm  boin' done.'     And  she 

Htruightoned  hernelf  yet  higher,  ond  r.  unlj  yet  higher  upon  her  sides, 

changed  theangle  of  !  ■        ;         '         iiiui  l'  lo  uoiito. 

'V(s,  but  I  kin,' pi!  'Mr.  Lai-rabeel    Mr.  Larraba'I" 

Tlii.'^^rcntlcman  had  i«n,i.n,u  I.I. ■  i  ;id,  and  was  peering  at  fMr.  Bill  through 
rtjc  triuiiguliir  opening  formed  by  his  mate's  tide  and  arm.  The  reason  why 
Mr.  Bill  a(ldi\s.-od  him  twice,  was  because  ho  hiid  miiiscd  him  when  he  threw 
the  6r.-,t  uddn.  s  over  her  shoulder.    The  last  was  sent  through  tin'  triang'e. 

'Mr.  I^arrabie  !  i  say  it  kin  be  done  and  I'm  goin'  to  do  if.  Sir.  little  as  1 
counted  on  sich  a  ca.se,  yit  still,  it  ar'  so.  Let  the  consheiiuciicho?  be  what  thoy 
1)0,  both  now  and  some  futur  day.  Mr.  Larrabee,  sir.  that  whippin' that  you 
wasa  goin' to givo  to  Letsy  Ann  Aery  cannot  fall  upon  h  r  shoulders,  and — 
that  is,  upon  her  phouldcr,^,, and  before n>y  face.  IpjMI  nC-ich.  ^ir.you  may 
ji::t — instid  of  whippin' her,  sir, you  may — in.'tkl  of  !•  i'     nnlwith 

standin'and  nevertheless— you  may  give  it  (o  ME' 


EFMOROffS  TALEb.  SS 


CllAFTKR  Vlll. 


■CUi !  what  a  fall  was  there,  my  cuuiitiyracii '. 
Then  you  and  I  and  all  of  U3  iell  down ':' 

ii  tiKj  j)u})ils  of  Josiah  Lorriby"s  school  had  bad  tbi'.  kno\>!cdg-cof  ail  tongues  ; 
il  Iht-y  hudbcen  familiar  witb  tho  histories  of  all  tli-:  base  men  of  all  the  ages, 
they  could  have  found  no  word,-?  in  which  to  cTiiracfciiw,  and  no  person  with 
whom  to  compare  Mr.  Bill  Williams.  If  they  had  known  what  it  Was  to  be  a 
fraitor,  tlicy  might  have  admitted  that  he  was  inore  alike  tliis,  the  most 
Wegpic^alile  of  all  characters,  than  any  other.  Bat  tin  y  would  have  argued  that 
he  was  baser  than  all  other  traitor;-;,  because  he  had  ootrayed,  not  6niy  others, 
but  hnil^elf.  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  tho  big  boy;  thi- inturc  resident  ofDokes- 
l)orough  ;  the  expectant  clerk  :  flio  vindicator  Of  jiorsecuted  liirlhood,  in  the 
person  of  tho  girl  he  loved;  the  pledge-taker  of  P'Sponsibiiitics, — that  he 
should  have  taken  the  pains,  just  before  lie  was  going  away,  to  degrade  him- 
self by  proposing  to  take  nponhis  own  Shoulders  the  rod  that  had  never  be- 
fore descended  but  upon  the  backs  and  hgs  of  children  I  Poor  Seaborn  Byne  ! 
If  I  ever  siw  expressed  in  one  human  being's  counlonance,  disgust,  anger  and 
abject  hopelessness,  I  saw  them  as  I  turned  to  look  i.t  him.  He  spoke  not  one 
word,  not  even  in  whispers,  but  he  looked  as  if  he  c^  i;ld  never  more  place  con- 
Hdence  i I)  mortal  flesh. 

When  Mr.  Bill  had  concluded    his    ultimatum,  t Ik-  female    l.orriby's  arBos 
came  down,  and  the  male  Lorriby's  head  went  up.    'I'hey  sent  each  the  other  a 
ymile.     Both  were  smart  enough  to   be  satisfied.    The  latter  was  more  than 
iiished. 

•I  am  proud  this  day  of  William  Williams.  It  air  so,  and  A  can  but  say  I 
air  pro%d  of  him.  William  Wlliams  were  now  in  a  position  to  stand  up  and 
shine  in  his  new  eperc  of  action.  If  he  went  to  1  )ukei!borough  to  keep  store 
thar,  he  mout  now  go  sayin'  that  as  he  had  been  a  good  scholar,  so  he  mout 
expect  to  be  agood  derk,  and  fit  to  be  trusted, yea,  with  thousands  upon  thou- 
sands, ef  sich  mout  be  the  case.  But  as  it  was  so.  and  as  he  have  been  to  us 
all  as  it  ware,  and  no  difficulties,  and  no  nothia  of  the  sort,  and  he  ware 
goin'.acd  it  mout  be  soon ;  yea.  it  mout  be  to-morrow,  from  this  school 
,-ti-aight  intoo  a  store,  I  cannot,  nor  f  cannot.  No.  far  be  it.  This  were  a 
I<enc  too  solemn  and  too  lovely  for  sich.  1  cannot,  nor  I  cannot.  William 
\Villianis  may  now  take  his  seat. 

Mr.  Bill  obeyed.  I  was  jflad  that  he  did  not  look  at  Betsy  Ann  as  she 
turned  to  go  to  hers.  But  she  looked  at  him.  I  saw  her,  and  little  as  I  was, 
I  saw  also  that  if  he  ever  had  had  any  chance  <if  winning  her.  it  v?a3  gone 
trom  him  forever.  It  was  now  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  we  were  dismissed. 
Without  saying  a  word  to  any  one,  Mr.  Bill  took  hk  arithmatic  and  slate,  (for 
ciphering,  as  it  was  called  then,  was  his  only  study).  We  knew  what  it 
meant,  for  we  felt,  as  well  as  he,  that  this  was  his  last  day  at  school.  As  my 
getting  to  school  depended  upon  his  continuance,  I  did  not  doubt  that  it  was 
my  last  also. 

On  the  way  home,  but  not  until  after  separatuig  from  all  the  other  boye, 
Mr.  Bill  showed  some  disposition  to  boast. 

.  'You  .all  little  fellows  was  monstous  badly  akeered  this  evening,  Squire. 
'Was'nt  you  seared  too?'  I  asked. 

'SkeeredV  I'd  like  t.  -  -  •'■'^  rboolmaster  that  f^uuld  skeer  m^  I  skeered 
of  Joe  Larrabee  ?' 


ftl  FTMOROCft    TALES. 

■|  dill  not  think  jnu  were  scan  «1  o\  liiin,' 

Skccrol  of  who  then?  Mis>  Limiboc  '  OM  K.il  Kyc?  J^ln'  muat  be 
icnIiIct  cjtnl  than  wliat  she  :ir'.  and  tlien  not  skccr  nic  Wliy  l(K)k  In  n-.  Siiaiir. 
how  would  I  look  jroin'  into  l>iikr.-l>iiroafjli  into  Mr.  Bland  and  .Iokcs  -torp, 
ri^^ht  from  l>cin'  fkeercd  of  old  Mi^■»  l.arnilK-e?  To  In-  ninnin'  right  intoo  Mr. 
Bland  and  .tone's  i-lore,  and  old  .Mdntibiliy  Ivirr.itxo  ripht  artcr  ini-,  or  old 
.loc  nutlicr.  It  wnr  well  for  him  thai  he  nuvfr  struck  Betsy  Ann  Aery.  Kl 
he  had  a  struck    he-,  Jo  f,arrnlnrV  ptrikin'  tlays  would  lie  over.' 

'But  wasut  you  poin'  to  take  li<'r  whippin'  for  her?' 

•Lookcc  here,  Scuiirc,  1  tlidn't  lukc  it.  di<l  1  ?' 

'No  ;  but  you  said  you  wa.-<  ready  lo  take  it" 

'Poor  little  fdlow  !'  he  paid,  eompas,<!ionfttoIy.  'Squire,  you  are  yit  \ouiis;  in 
the  way.'^ of  this  sorrowful  and  ontimely  world.  .Iix'  l/»rrnbee  knows  me.nnd  I 
knows  doc  Larrabei,  andn-"  t'.ii'  feller  said,  that  ainunirieat.' 

We  were  now  al  oar  "rate.  Mr.  IWll  bade  lue  good  eveniii};,  uod  p;»=«iiJ  on 
and  thnscudei  his  pupilage  and  mine  at  the  school  of. Josiah  Lorriby. 


MISS  PEA,  MISS  SPOUTER  AND  THE  YANKEE. 


CHAl'TEK  I. 

"Companiona 
That,  do  converse,  and  waste  the  time  together, 
WTiose  souls  do  bear  an  equal  yoke  of  love." 

Merchant  of  Venice. 

Mr.  Benjamin  (but  as  everybody  called  him  uncle  Ben)  Pea,  re- 
sided two  "miles  out  of  Dukesboroiigh  ;  he  was  a  small  farmer— not 
small  in  person,  but  a  farmer  on  a  small  scale.  He  raised  consider- 
able corn,  a  trifle  of  cotton,  great  quantities  of  potatoes  and  sonie 
pinders.  It  was  said  tliat  in  his  younger  days  he  used  to  be  brisk  in 
his  business  and  to  inako  something  by  hauling  wood  to  town.  He 
spent  as  little  as  he  could  and  savinl  as  much  as  he  could;  but  for  a 
certain  purpose  lie  kept  as  good  an  establishment  as  he  could.  His 
little  wagon  used  to  be  good  enongli  to  carry  him  and  the  old  woman 
to  town,  yet  he  bought  a  second  hand  gig,  and  did  other  things  in 
proportion.  It  was  extravagant  and  he  knew  it,  but  he  had  a  pur- 
pose. That  purpose  was  to  marry  <  iff  his  daughter  Georgiana.  Now, 
Georgiana  had  told  him  for  years  and  years,  even  before  the  old 
woman  died,  that  if  he  wanted  to  marry  her  off  (a  thing  she  cared 
nothing  about  liersolf)  tlie  only  way  to  do  that  was  ibr  the  family  to 
go  in  a  decent  way.  And  now  the  old  woman  had  died,  and  her 
father  had  grown  old,  she  had  her  own  way,  and  tint  wa.s  as  decent 
as  could  be  afforded,  and  no  raoro. 

Miss  Georgiana  Tea  was  heavy  ;  heavy  of  being  married  off,  and 
heavy  of  body;  her  weight  for  liftecn  years  at  the  least,  had  not 
been  probably  less  than  one  hundred  and  seventy  pounds.  In  her 
seasons  of  highest  health,  whicli  were  probably  ofttiner  in  the  lattci 
part  of  the  fall  than  at  any  other  period  of  the  year,  people  used  to 
guess  that  it  might  be  even  more  ;  I  nit  there  was  no  getting  at  it  at 
any  time,  because  she  always  stoutly  refused  to  be  weighed.  True, 
she  laced,  but  that  did  not  seem  to  diminish  her  materially,  for  what 
was  pressed  down  by  the  corsets  managed  to  re-appear  somewhere 
q\k.     She  had  a  magnificent  bust  —this  bust  was  her  pride,  that  was 


86  HLTJOKOrs  U'ALEf. 

cvidciil.  ludecii,  she  il^  j^ood  as  confessed  as  niucli  tti  luc.  I  knew 
the  family  well  :  she  di<rnt  niiml  me — I  was  a  very  small  boy,  and 
she  was  awan-  tliat  J  considciod  that  bnst  a  wonderful  vvdrk  of 
nature. 

Yet  8hc  did'iit  luaiiy.  Tlu-  old  gcnticui.in  had  bceu  su  anxi'iUi- 
about  it,  that  ho  bad  l(li;fi  ago  rather  given  it  out  iu  a  public  way 
that  upon  her  marria^<'  r.-ilh  his  conecut,  (she  was  the  onl}'  child — 
Peterson  died  when  a  h  .y,  ul'  measles)  he  hhouM  t;ivc  up  everything, 
liouses,  lands,  stuck  In  mi  tare,  and  money,  and  live  ui)on  the  bounty 
of  his  son-in-law.  Thi  -  •  i^cveral  items  of  jiropcrty  had  been  often 
appraised  by  the  n(ji,L;hl'<>rs  as  accurately  as  could  he  done,  (consider- 
ing that  the  exact  anmiiit  of  money  could  not  be  gotten  at)  in  \io\v 
of  ascertaining  fur  their  «'wn  Hatisfaction  what  her  duwry  might  be. 
The  appraisement  had  g  uio  ihiough  many  gradations  of  figures,  while 
the  bridegroom  dcl.iyed  his  coining.  At  the  period  of  which  I  am 
now  telling,  there  were  those  who  maintained  that  nncle  Ben  wa.^ 
worth. four  thousand  dollars:  others  shook  their  hoadi>-and  said 
tiiirty-fivo  hundre<l  ;  "vvhik  ollicrs  yet,  who  claimed  to  know  more 
about  it  than  any  body  olac,  they  did'nt  care  who  it  was,  insisted  thai 
three  thousand  was  the  outside.  Many  a  man,  it  seemed  to  me,  nnd 
one  that  would  h;ivo  been  wortli  having,  might  have  been  caught  by 
that  bust  and  that  prospective  fortune.  I  remember  that  1  was  con- 
stantly expecting  them  tu  marry  her  oft'.  But  they  did  not  ;  and  now, 
at  thirty,  or  thereabout,  slie  was  evidently  oi  Uic  opinion  that  even  il' 
she  had  many  desires  to  enter  intotho  estate  of  marriage,  their  chances 
of  gratification  were  few.  liid'-ol.  Miss  Tea  was  at  that  stage  when 
.she  was  beginning  to  speak  olten  of  the  other  sox  with  disgust. 

Mr.  Jacob  Spouter  rcsiocd  in  Ik-  very  heart  ol'  I  >ukesborongh,  and 
kept  a  hotel.  The  town  1  oin;;  Dall,  his  business  was  small.  lb- 
was  a  small  man,  hut  looked  lu  i-:.it,  capable  and  business  like.  'J'o 
look  at  him,  yon  wotUd  have  supponi^d  that  he  kept  a  good  hotel,  but 
he  did  not.  It  is  ;  urprising,  indeed,  to  consider  how  few  men  there 
arc  who  do,  }int  tlds  is  a  great  thiym;  and  (-ntircly  indepeiKh^nt  ol 
what  1  wish  to  tell,  except  so  far  .as  it  may  relate  to  the  fact  that  Mr 
Spuutor  had  yet  living  witli  him,  an  only  child,  a  daughter,  who.sc 
name  was  Angeline.  5liss  Angclinc,in  short,  took  after  the  Kanigans, 
who  were  lung.  She  was  a  very  thin  young  lady,  almost  too  thin  to 
look  well,  and  her  hair  and  complexion  were  rather  sallow.  Hut  then 
that  hair  <-urled—  every  hair  curled.  . 

Who  has  not  a  weakness?  Miss  Pea  had  hers,  we  .s;i\v  ;  and  now 
wc  shall  see,  as  everybody  for  years  had  seen,  that  Mis.o  8pouter  had 
hers,  also.  It  was  an  innocent  one — it  wqs  her  eurls.  In  the  memo- 
ry of  man  that  hair  had  never  been  done  up,  but  through  all  changes 
of  circumstances  and  weather,  it  had  hung  in  curls,  just  as  it  hung  on 
the  day   when   this   story  begins.     They  had   been   complimented 


HUiJOKOUS    TALE8.  87 

Uiousaucls  ui'  timetj,  ami  by  hundi'cds  of  peisoua  ;  the  guests  of  yeart. 
had  noticed  them,  and  had  uttered  and  sojilcd  their  approbation  ;  and 
there  liad  been  times  when  Miss  Spoutcr  hoped,  in  spite  of  the  want 
of  other  as  striking  charms,  and  in  spile  of  the  universally  known  fact 
that  her  father  liad  always  boen  insolvent  and  always  would  bo,  that 
thotic  curls  would  cvcutu.illy  entangle  the  pei^ion,  without  whom  she 
felt  that  she  never- could  bo  happy.  While  thiy  person  was  a  man,  it 
was  not  any  particular  individual  of  the  species.  Many  a  time  had 
she  seen  one  who,  she  thought,  would  answer-  Slie  was  not  very 
fastidious,  but  she  posiiivel}'  believed  (and  this  belief  made  her  appear 
to  be  anxious)  that  in  view  of  all  the  circumstauces  of  her  life,  the  best 
thing-  that  she  could  do  for  herself  woukV  be  to  marry  ,  besides,  there 
was  something  in  her,  she  thought,  which  she  constantly  understood 
to  be  telling-  her  that  if  she  had  the  opportunity,  she  could  make  some 
man  extremely  happy. 

But  though  those  curls  had  been  «o  often  praised — ^yea,  though 
they  had  been  sometimes  handled — to  such  a  degree  did  people's 
admiration  of  them  extend^  that  Miss  Spouter,  like  her  contemporary 
in  the  country,  was  unmarried,  and  beginning  to  try  to  feel  as  if  she 
despised  the  vain  and  foolish  world  of  man. 

Tlicsc  young  ladies  were  friends  and  had  been  always.     They 
were  so  much  attached  that  each  seemed,  to  a  superficial  observer, 
lo  believe  that  she  had  bceir  born  for  but  onii  special  purpose,  and  that 
was  to  help  the  other  to  get  married  ;  for  Miss  SpoiUxn-  believed  and 
Miss  Pea  knew  that  marriage  was  a  subject  whicli,  >\'ithout  intcnnis- 
sion,  occupied  the  mind  of  her  friend.     It  was  pleasant  to  hoar  Mi-^s 
Spouter,  who  was  more  sentimental  and  the  '  -    .  .r  talker  of  tho  twc, 
praise  Miss  Pea's   'liggcr,'  by  which  terms  siie  meant  only  her  l)nst. 
No  one  ever  dreamed  that  it  was  possible  for  any  jealousy  to  rise  be- 
tween them  ;  for  Miss  Spoutcr  had  no  figure  worth  mentioning,  an<l 
not  a  hair  of  Miss  Pea's  head  could  be  curled  ;  not  only  so,  but  tin- 
fact  was,  that  in  her  heart  of  hearts  (so  curious  a  thing  is  even  the  • 
most  constant  friendship)  neither  thought  much  of  the  other's  special 
accomplishment ;  rather,  each  thought  that  there  was  entirely  too 
much  of  it,  csjiecially  Miss  Spouter  touching  the  'figgcr.'    If  Miss  Pea 
considered  the  property  (jualifination  in"  lior  favor,  Miss  Spouter  did 
not  forget  that  she  resided  right  in  the  very  heart  of  Dukesborougb, 
and  that  her  father  kept  a  hotel.     Now,  as  long  as  tlic  world  stands, 
persons  of  their  condition  who  live  in  town,  will  feel  a  little  ahead 
of  those  who  live  in  the  coiintry  ;  wliilo  the  latter,  though   never 
exactly  knowing  why,  will  admit  tliat  it  is  so.     MisB  Pea  was  geuei- 
ally  very  much  liked  by  the  neighbors  ;  Miss  Spoutcr  had  not  made 
a  great  number  of  friends.     Probably  town  airs  had  something  to  do 
in  the  matter.    Miss  Pea  was  considered  the  superior  character  of 
the  two,  but  neither  of  them  thought  so  ;  Miss  Spouter,  especially, 


88  HCMOKdFfi  TALES. 

who  knew  the  meaning*  of  uiany  more  words  in  'lie  dictionary  than 
her  friend,  and  wlio  had  read  Ah^n/,i>  and  Mcli  sa  and  the  Three 
Spaniards,  until  she  had  the  run  "f  them  fully,  never  tlveaiued  of 
sueh  a  thinj^-. 

Miss  Spouter  was  Ibnd  of  visifiu.^"  Mifi;s  Pea,  <  iiiciiially  in  watcr- 
incloii  time.  Miss  Pen  valued  the  Iriendshipof  ^'  iss  Spouter  hecausc 
it  afforded  her  frequent  opportunities  of  staying  a  i  hotel,  a  privilege 
which  she  well  knew  not  many  country  girls  enio_\  I.  To  stay  there, 
not  as  a  boarder,  hut  as  a  friend  of  tiie  family  .  to  eat  there,  and 
sleep  there,  and  not  to  pay  lor  either  of  these  u\  >  inctions  as  other 
people  did,  hut  to  do  those  things  on  iuvitation  '  Now,  while  Mies 
Pea  got  much  bettfM-  eating  and  sleeping  at  honii  vet  she  could  but 
eonsider  the  former  as  privilcgt^s.  She  never  wo  1  forget  that  once 
when  there  was  a  show  in  Ditke.sborough,  Lciven  hy  a  ventriloquist, 
who  was  also  a  juggler,  she  hud  lieen  at  Mr.  J.  Spouter'.s  an»l  had 
been  introduced  to  the  wonderful  man  and  hi.;  wife  too,  and  had 
heard  them  talk  about  general  mutters  just  as  oilier  people  did. 

But  time  was  waxing-  old.  Tlie  bust  had  about  ceased  to  be 
ambitious,  and  the  crnds,  though  wishful  yet,  woro  fulling  into  tlio 
liabil  (if  <';iviM"-  only  dcsponilont    ^;Ilakes. 

(JllAlTEPt  II. 

Miss  Spouter  sat  in  the  liotel  parlor  ;  it  was  on  the  fnst  floor  and 
npeued  upon  the  .street  ;  in  it  wore  two  wooden  rocking-chairs,  six 
split-bottoms  and  a  halli.  jud.  1  shall  n(»t  undertake  to  describe 
the  window-curtains.  81iu  was  i)eusivc  and  silent  :  the  .still  .summer 
evening  disposed  Iwi-  to  uieditatiou.  Slio  sat  silent  and  poiisivo,  but 
not  gloomy.  Looking  out  from  the  window,  she  espied  on  the  further 
side  of  th(r  square,  ^Iiss  I'ea,  who  was  in  the  act  of  turning  towardw 
her.  Ileit^  she  eauie,  in  good  yellow  calico  and  a  green  calai<h.  As 
she  walkeil.  her  arms  were  crossed  peacefully  upon  her  chest. 

'Ilowdyo,  strani^'er  !'  Kalnled  Mi-^s  Sp. niter.  Tlirv  li:id  not  met  in 
a  fortnight. 

'Stranger  your.sell','  aaswered  .Miss  Tea,  with  a  siiiili;  and  a  sigli- 
They  embraced  ;  the  curls  fell  upon  the  bust  and  th(.'  bust  fostered 
the  curls,  as  only  lono;  tried  friends  can  fall  ujion  and  foster.  Miss 
Pea  came  to  stay  all  night  ;  never  had  they  shtpt  in  the  same  house 
wit.hout  sleeping  together. 

'Well,  'leorg}','  Miss  Spouter  remarked,  sweetly,  hut  almost  invid- 
iously, as  they  were  jotting  into  ])ed,  'figgor  ia  Cgger.' 

'It's  uo  sich  a  lliini;,-  answered  Miss  Pea,  with  tirm  self  denial  ; 
'it's  curls,  you  know  it's  lurls.' 

'No,  George,  its  ligger.' 


HUMOEOXJS  TALES.  *  89 

'Angelinc  Spouter,  you  know  it  aiiil,  ;  its  curls,  aud  you  know  its 
curls.'  • 

They  blew  out  the  caiicUc, and  lor  a  islioit  time  continued  this 
friendly  discussion  ;  but  soon  Miss  Pea  g(»t  the  best  <>f  it,  as  u,->ral, 
and  Miss  Spouter,  by  silence  and,  other  si,i;iis,  admittcvl  that  it  was 
curls. 


'We've  been  sleeping  a  loii^  time  togctlici,  (ioor;^e.' 

'Wc  have  that.' 

'Ten  years.' 

'Yes,  fifteen  (»f  "cm.' 

'Gracious  mc  !  fifteen?' 

'Yes,  indeed  ' 

'Well,  but  I  was  but  a  child  then.' 

Miss  Tea  coughed.     She  was  the  elder  by  exactly  six  months. 

'Did  we  think  ten  years  ago  that  yen  would  now  be  a  Pea  and  I  a 
Spouter  ?' 

'I  did'nt  think  much  about  myself,  but  I  had  no  idea  ynu  would.' 

Yet  so  it  is  ;  you  with  your  figger  and  yet  a. Pea.' 

'And  Avhat  is  worse,  you  with  your  curls  and  yet  a  Spouter.' 

'No,  not  worse.  You  ought  to  liavc  been  married  years  ago, 
(leorgiana  Pea.' 

'If  I  had  had  your  curls  and  Iiad  wanted  to  marry,  /  sInnibL  a  been 
married  and  forgot  it.' 

'No,  George,  I  never  had  the  re(]uisite  liggcr.' 

'Angelinc  Spouter,  do  hush.' 


'Suppose  wo  had  married,  George  ?' 
'Well.' 

'I  think  I  could  have  made  my  liu.sbaud  love  me  a.^  lew  men  have 
ever  loved,  be  they  whomsoever  they  might.' 
'Ah  I  every  body  knows  that.' 
'No,  alas  !  none  but  thee,  George' 
'Yes,  but  I  know  better.' 
Miss  Spouter  again  gave  it  uj). 


'Do  you  reckon  we  would  have  had  families,  <i'eorge  V 

Miss  Pea  smothering  her  head  imder  her  friend's  pillow,  declared 
that  she  could  laugh  fit  to  kill  herself.' 

'I  have  often  thought,  my  dear  (timiv.",  oiwliat  1  woul'l  ihink  if  1 
had  married,  and  had  a  little  girl— 

'With  curly  hair  ?' 

'Well — yes;  I  should  have  had  uo  objection.  I'n I  — I  Imp"'  Aw 
would  knve  been  a  good  child,  George.' 


90  HTJMOfiOrS  TALES. 

'No  doubt  about  that.'  answered  Miss  Pea,  with  fjotiiclliin^  of  ;i 
jawn.' 

'She  Sihould  have  loved  you,  llcor<;;iana,  and  'll  y-:. 

'All  mine  V     Miss  Pea  seemed  (n  wake  up 

"Yes.  all  yours.' 

'Well,  if  I  had  been  marked,  and  if  it'bftd  been  my  h>{,  I  would'nt 
a  wanted  it  to  been  but  one,  certain,  sure.' 

'And  that  sliould  have  been  (Jcor^iana  Pea,  <>vcr  and  over  again.' 

'Well,  it  should'nt  ;  he-  -' 

'Ho  ?     O,  Goorgc,  would  y< Ml  liuve  had  a  boy  .'    What  a  fifatuiv  " 

'Yos,  I  would,  Angy,  <'crtiiin  ;  girls  are  a  trouble' 

'Init  girls  are  so  much  prrtti<'r,  George, — la,  nv  I' 

'They  may  be  prettier,  but  (hoy  arc  a  trouble" 

'Ho  wuuld  have  betMi  a  good  ihild,  Gcorgy.' 

'If  ho  Iiadnt  I'd  havo  made  him  good.'  Miss  Pea  ^poko  wilh 
dooifion. 

'Oh,  you  LTucl  croalure  V 

'No,  I'm  not  cruel,  Angelinc,  but  I  bclivc  in  making  children  miud. 

'."^i)  do  I,  but  I  can't  .see  bow  a  woman  can  beat  her  own-t»nspring 
to  death.'     Miss  Spouter  was  indignant. 

'I  don't  mean  that ;  stiH— la,  Angelinc  Spouter,  what  aic  wc  talkin 
about?  we  havo'ut  got  any  children,  and  as  for  nic.r shall  never 
have  any  myself,  certain  and  sure  !' 

Miss  Pea  laughed  heartily,  but  Miss  Spouter  sighed,  and  remarked 
that  it  wa.s  not  in  people  to  say  what  was  to  be  nor  what  waj^'nt 
to  be.' 

'(■"eorge,  1  d<j  believe  yon  are  going  to  sleep.' 

Miss  Pea  declared  that  she  was'nt,  and  like  all  persons  uf  her  size, 
she  thought  she  wa.s  tolKng  the  truth.  Mis.<;  Spouter  had  one  or  two 
other  remarks  which  .she  always  made  nn  >ii  li  eicasioiis.  nii<l  which 
she  wanted  to  make  now.' 

'(jeorgiana  IVa,  do  you  or  do  you  n.  .  .  .^.  >.xpeci.  ;  •  i.iuiy  .'  i 
ask  you  candidly.' 

'No,  Angelinc,  I  don!t ;  1  may  have  had  thoughts,  I  may  have 
had  expectations  ;  pap  looks  as  if  he  would  go  distracted  if  I  don't 
marry,  but  t<;  tell  you  the  truth,  I  have  about  come  to  the  conclusion 
that  there's  more  marries  now  than  does  well.  Papdechares  that  he 
means  to  marry  mo  ofl'  to  somebody  before  he  dies.  He  thinks  that 
I  eould'nt  take  care  of  myself  if  he  was  to  die,  and  that  he  takes 
care  of  me  now  himself.  1  .think  I'm  the  one  that  takes  care  of  him, 
and  I  think  I  could  t  ike  aii  good  care  of  myself  then  as  1  do  now. 
He  says  T  shall  marry  thoucrh,  and  Pm  waitin  to  see  bow  it'll  be. 
But  I  tell  you,  Angeline  ."^poiiter.  that  there's  more  marries  now 
than  ever  docs  well. 


t 

HDMOKOrS  TALES-  01 

'Aucl — well/  au5wcrcd  Miss  Spoutcr,  'uud  no  have  I  concluded 
about  it.  It  is  the  houcst  expression  of  the  genuine  sentiments  of 
my  innermost  heart.  AVliat  is  man  ?  A  deceitful,  vain  and  foolish 
creature,  who  will  to-day  talk  his  honey  words,  and  praise  a  girl's 
curls,  and  tomorrow,  he  is  further  oli'tliau  when  we  first  laid  our 
eyes  on  him.  What  is  your  opinion  of  man,  George  ?  What  now  is 
your  opinion  of  Tom  Dyson,  who  used  to  melt  before  the  sight  ol" 
you  like  butter  ere  the  sun  had  sot  V 

'I  think  of  Tom  Dyson  like  I  think  of  Barney  Bolton  who  used  to 
praise  your  curls  just  like  they  were  so  much  gold,  and  like  I  think 
of  all  of  'em,  and  that's  about  as  much  as  I  think  of  a  <^ld  dead  pin<> 
tree  or  post  oak.' 

Miss  Pea  had  not  read  many  books  like  Miss  Spoutcr,  and  must 
necessarily,  therefore,  borrow  her  comparisons  from  objects  familiar 
to  her  country  life.  Miss  Spouter  noticed  the  difference,  but  re- 
frained from  remarking  on  it. 

'And  yet,  Georgian;!,  there  is  sometliing  in  me,  I  Icel  it  ;•  it  tells 
me  that  I  could  h;ive  made  Barney  Bolton  much  happier  than  M.a- 
linda  Jones  has.     Ba^-ncy  Bolton  is  not  happy,  Georgiana  Pea.' 

Miss  Pea  only  coughed. 

Yes,  indeed  !  Alas  !  I  see  it  in  his  eye  ;  I  soe  it  in  hi,s  walk  ;  I 
see  it  in  his  oypry  action.  The  image  of  Angeline  Spouter  is  in  hi ; 
breast  and  it  will  stay  there  forever." 

Miss  Pea  was  always  perfectly  silent,  and  oiulciivnred  \o  feel 
solemn  when  this  last  speech  was  said. 

'If  you  were  to  marry,  George,  T  should  bo  flu?  lonr'.so.'i/cx/-  cieatnrr 
in  the  wide,  wide  world.' 

'Ah,  well  !  when  I  marry,  which  is  never  going  to  be  ilif  caw, 
(that  is  exceptin  pap  do  go  distracted  and  hunt  me  up  a  good  chance) 
you'll  be  married  and  forget  it,  and  that  little  curly  lieaded  girl 
will  be  rcadin,  ritin  and  cypherin.''  Miss  Pea  yawned  and  laughed 
slightly. 

'Never,  never  I     But  won't  you  let  your  little  boy  come  sometimes- 
in  a  passing  hour  to  see  a  lonesome  girl,  who  once  was  you  friend, 
but  now,  alas  !  abandoned  V 

'Angeline  Spouter,  do  hush. 

:X-  *^  *  :y-  :y: 

'(»eorgc,  it  is  very  warm  to-nigh  ;  is  it  late  "r" 
'I  should  think  it  was,'  answered  Misa  Pea,  and  snored. 
Miss  Spoutcr  lay  for  some  time  awake,  but  silent.  She  then 
lifted  the  curtain  from  the  window  through  which  (he  moon,  high 
in  heaven,  shone  upon  the  bed,  withdrew  from  her  caj)  five  or  six 
curls,  extending  them  upon  her  snowy  breast,  smiled  dismally,  put 
them  up  again,  looked  a  moment  at  her  compauion,  then  abruptly 
turned  her  back  to  her,  and  wont  to  jsleep. 


(CHAPTER  III. 

I  -  aij  i.ic  couii  ■  '  "    ■        '■'.>  liavo  shared, 
The  sistns'  \i,\\  that  we  have  .'«penl 

Wlien  we  luivc  «  .  y  footed  tirae  ' 

For  partitij:  U6---'>,  .mu  is  all  forgot?"  , 

MiJsiimmer-Xight>  Drcaiu. 

But  I'ricudb'liip,  like  other  good  tliiiij^-s,  lias  enemies.  Ouc  of  the 
most  dangerous  of  these  is  a  third  person.  These  bciucs  are  among 
tlic  most  inconvenicnf  and  troublesome  upon  earth.  Not  often  do 
confidential  conversations  take  idace  in  a  company  of  three,  esjjecial- 
ly  eonversationp  appertaining^  to  friendship  or  love.  When  seuti- 
iiieiits,  hoi  from  the  h(;ar(,  has  to  move  in  triangles,  it  mii.sL  often 
meet  with  liindrance.s  and  euol  itsi^lf  bolore  ilhas  reached  iu  destina- 
lion.  As  in  mathentalics,  between  two  i)oints,  so  in  social  life 
lielween  two  hearts  ;  the  shortest  way  is  a  .^itraight  line.  A  third 
person  makes  a  divcr^-once  and  a  delay.  Third  persons  have  done 
more  to  separate  very  friends  and  lovers,  than  all  the  world  besides. 
Tlioy  had  gotten  between  other  persons  before,  and  now,  erne  of 
Ihem  had  come  to  get  between  Mi.-;.s  Spouter  and  Miss  Tea. 

-Vdiel  Slack,  some  years  before,  had  left  his  native  Ma.ssaehusetts, 
and  from  going-  to  and  IVo  upon  the  eartii,  came  in  ;in  evil  day,  and 
put  up  at  the  inn  of  Jacol»  Spouter.  lie  -was  tall,  deep  voiced,  big 
footed,  an<l  the;  most  deliberate  looking  man  that  had  ever  been  in 
Diikesborough.  He  was  one  of  those  imj)ertiirbable  Yankees  that  could 
Jiaol  yon  when  you  were  watching  him  just  a.s  well  as  when  yon  were 
not.  When  he  said  that  he  was  twenty-eight  his  last  birth-day,  his 
fresh  loftking  hair,  his  unwi  inkled  ami  unblii.^hiug  cheek,  and  his 
entire  freedom  from  all  sign:;  of  wear  and  care,  made  one  believe 
I  hat  it  must  be  m).  TI  he  had  .s.iid  Ihat  he  w;is  lorly-'ivc,  tlie  gravity 
of  his  conntenauce,  the  ileliberation  of  his  gait,  and  Iht.-  deep,  wordly 
wisdom  of  his  eye  woidd  ha\<'  m.ide  one  believe  that  he.  s])()k<i  truly 

The  mere  arrival  of  such  a  persi>n  in  that  small  community,  must  ' 
necessui  ily  ereate  some  stir,  lie  .vas  greatly  the  most  remarkable 
om-  of  all  the  j)a>seiigers  who  came  by  that  morning's  stage.  While 
they  :i1e  thiiir  breakfast  willi  that  haste  which  is  peeidiar  to  the 
1  raveling  imblic,  he  b)ok  his  tinu'.  The  stage  went  away  and  left 
him  at  the  table  enling  his  fifth  i)iseuit,  while  Mrs.  Spouter 'a  eyes 
were  lix(,'d  ujmjm  him  with  that  s<,eadfast  look  with  which  .she  was 
wont  Ut  regard  all  persons  who  ate  at  her  table  more  than  she  thought 
was  fair.  lie  look  another  biscuit,  looked  about  lor  more  butter  and 
altemi>ted  to'opcn  a  convereatiou  with  that  lady  ;  but  she  was  not  in 
the  mood  to  br;  coramnnicativo,  so  he  set  to  the  work  of  studying 
h(M-.  He  made  her  out  to  bt;  a  woman  of  a  serious  turn  of  mind, 
less  attentive  to  dress  thau  her  husbaud,  but  at  the  same  time  aspir- 
ing and  possibly  with  propriety  and  with  success  to  be  the  head  of 


HCMOKOTTS    TALES.  93 

the  family.  After  breakfast,  he  stood  about,  sat  about,  picked  his 
teeth,  ('with  a  ivoiy  laucct,  blamed  if  it  were'nt,'  Mr.  Spoutcr  said) 
then  took  his  hat  aud  strolled  about  the  villogo  all  the  forenoon. 
He  weut  into  both  the  stores,  got  acquainted  with  the  doctor  aud  the 
black  Buiith,  and  the  shoemaker,  fouud  and  bargained  ibf  the  rent  ol' 
a  room,  and  at  dinner,  announced  hltasclf  a  citir.en  of  CJi'orgia  and  a 
merchant  of  Dukesboroug]).  lu  Icsti  than  a  week,  a  small  stock  of 
goods  had  arrived  aud  were  neatly  arranged  in  the  room,  over  the 
door  of  which,  hung  a  sign  board,  painted  by  himself,  which  made 
Mr.  Boggs  and  Messrs-.  Blnnd  and  Jones  wish  cither  that  they  had 
never  had  sign  boards,  or  (li:it  Adicl  Slack,  dry  goods  mcrch;iwt,  had 
never  come  there, 

Being  a  siuglc  man,  Mr.  Slack  boarded  at  tlie  botel  of  J.  ISpoutcr. 
Now,  no  sooner  was  it  settled  that  he  was  to  become  a  citizen  than 
Miss  Spouter,  according  to  ancient  usage  in  such  cascy,  fidi  hrrsell 
to  be  yielding  to  the  in;  limis  influences  of  yet  another  lnvc.  Who 
knew,  she  thought,  tliat  !hc  fond  dream  of  her  life  was  not  de«- 
tincd  now  to  become  a  bl.  s  ul  consummation.  The  fact  that  Mr. 
Slack  had  come  from  afar,  mn'.i  her  sentimental  soul  only  the  more 
hopeful.  How  this  was  so  .-^Im'  could  not  tell,  but  it  was  so,  and  the 
good  girl  began  at  once  to  li  stow  the  most  assiduous  cultivation 
upon  every  charm  which  she  i  iight  she  possessed.  Mr.  Slack  soon 
began  to  be  treated  with  nioi  -onsideration  than  any  of  the  board- 
ers. He  had  within  a  week  i  <ivetl  from  Mr.  Spoutcr's  cud  of  the 
table  up  to  Mrs.  Spoutcr's,  an  become,  as  it  were,  that  lady's  left 
bower,  Miss  Augeline  being,  vi'  course,  her  right.  The  hot  biscuit 
were  always  handed  first  to  him,  aud  if  anybody  got  a.  hot  waffle,  it 
was  he.  People  used  to  look  up  towards  Mr;^.  Spoutcr  and  get  oc- 
cafdonal  glimpses  of  little  plates  of  fresh  butter  and  preserves  that 
tried  to  hide  behind  tlic  castors  or  the  candlestick.  When  there  was 
pie,  Mr.  Slack  was  helped  first,  because,  among  other  things,  he  was 
the  more  sure  of  getting  another  piece,  if  the  pic,  as  it  sometimes 
would  happen,  in  spite  of  precaution,  Bliould  n<jt  go  arouiul  the 
second  time. 

The  servants  did  not  like  him  because  he  never  gave  them  a  kind 
word  nor  a  cent  of  money.  But  let  any  one  of  them  omit  to  hand 
the  best  things  to  him  first.  0,  the  partiality  that  was  shown  as 
plain  as  day  to  that  man  I  Every  body  saw  it,  and  spoke  of  it 
among  confidential  friends.  Some  said  it  was  a  sin  ;  some  said  it 
was  a  shame,  and  some  went  so  far  as  to  say  it  was  both. 

Among  the  boarders,  was  one  whom  we  liave  seen  before.  I'Vir 
Mr.  Bill  Williams  had  now  been  installed  in  his  office,  and  liad 
already  began  to  take  new  responsibilities.  When  this  conduct 
towards  the  new  romer  had  become  notorious,  he  was  heard  b.v 
many  persons  even  to  swear  ihat  ,hc'd  be  dinged  cf  ho  had  bad  a  hot 


94 


HTMOROrS   TALES. 


waffle,  even  vrhcn  f'  s,  sen  c  that  d  1  Yankee  had 

nicived  up  to  old   ;;  ,-  cend.     ..\.s  |.  ,'n<l  pict  e  of 

jnc.  lie  had  done  gin  uui  ever  Lcarin  oi  tin-  like  uuy  luov  tiiroout  thr 
.iges  of  a  sorrowful  and  ontimrh-  vr.irld.  Hv  spoke  Avitli  fccliii"-  it 
is  true  ;  but  he  was  a  vici  1  Blund's  store,  and  lie  tliouglit 

th:\i  if  In-  could  not  take  .sc  "  ;  !i?ibilit\'.  the  question  was  who 
<  ouM  'C<jnse«|ucnses  mout  he  coiLSCfiuencca,'  8aid  Mr.  Bill,  'be  they 
now  (jr  at  some  fnter  day.  I  takes  the  rcsponability  to  say  that  tlio 
rase  ar  a  onfair,  and  a  inipositiou  on  the  boarders  and  on  the  tran- 
f^hf-nt  people,  and  it  war  alfio  n   shunic  on   Dukc.sl'orciugh,  and  a1    - 

,'  Mr.  jtill  ehook  hi.s  head  for  the  conclusion. 

But   in  gpite  of  every  body  and  every  thing,  Mr.  Slack  kept  hi.s 
place.     He  .soon  discovered  Mips  SpoutcrV  >yeakncs.s  :fnd  bcr  pu.-^ 
s'lou.     F!att<.'ring'  a.s  it  might  b(;  to  find  himself  the  favored  object  of 
her  pursuit,  yet  the  reflection  that  her  only  capital  v,a.v  a  head  v\' 
curls,  which  in  time  would  fade,  caiiscd  him  to  determine,  after  making 
lii.s  calculations,  that  no  profit  was  to  bo  netted  in  being  caught.     It 
was  not  to  be  overlooked,  however,  that  there  would  V»e,  if  not  an 
entire  savinjx  of  expense,  .-it   least  :i  pi).stj)oncincnt  of  its  payment  in 
kcRjting:  his  thoughts  to  himself  and  in  .'-ccmingto  be  drawing  nearer 
and  nearer  the   Aortex  which  was  ready  to  .swallow  him  up.     The 
Uwnin  of  board  at  Mr,  Sjioutcr's  included  monihly  payments.     Tiiese 
did  not  suit  calculations  which  were  imide  upon  the  principle  of  col- 
lecting his  own  dues  f4  once  and  postponing  his  payments  as  long 
as  possible,  and  it  possible,  to  the  end  ()f  time.     Now,  he  guessed 
that  great  aswere  Mr.  Spoutci-'s  needs,  that  affectionate  fiither  would 
not  be  tlie  man  to  run  the  risk  of  driving  off  his  daughter's  suitor 
l»y  worrying  him  with  dues  f.r  a  little  item  of  board,  which  might  all 
come  back  again  into  the  family.     In  addition  to  this,  he   was  not 
insensible  to  the  advantage  of  iiYainlainiiig  his  seat   :it  the  dinner 
tuble,  where   biscuits,  waffles  and  pics,  wlien  tliey  came  at   all,  were 
wont  to  make  their  first  appearance.     The.'^e  .'Several  matters,  being 
actual  money  to  him,  were  not  to  be  overlooked  by  a  man  vho  did 
nothing  without  deliberation.     After  deliberating,  tlierefore,  he  do- 
tcnnined  to  so  conduct  himself  liefore  the  Spouters  as  to  create  the 
Ijope  that  the  time  would  come  when  he  would  solicit   the  hand  of 
lier  who  long  had  been  willing  to  diestow  it  upon  somebody.     But 
I.e  was  careful  to  keep  his  own  advances  and   his  meetings  of  ad- 
vances without  the  pale  of  such  contingcuccs  as  he  had  named  were, 
in  the  South,  accustomed  to  follow  breaches  of  marriage  contracts. 
He  maintained  his  place  at  the  table,  and  took  what  it  afforded,  in 
the  I  KiT.ucr  of  a  man  who  was  very  near  to  being  one  of  the  family. 
He  cliiTtod  in  a  very  I'amiliar  manner  with  Mrs.  Spouter,  and  sym- 
pathised with  her  and  Mr.  Spouter's  com^jlninfp  of  the  high  price  of 
cvcrytlluig  except  board,     lie  lounged  in  the  parlor,  where  he  told 


htjMorocs  tales.  *       95 

to  Miss  Angeliuc  touching-  stories  of  his  boyLood's  home.  He  bc- 
istowed  due  adiuiration  upou  those  curls  which,  every  time  ho  saw 
them,  reminded  him  of  a  portrait  of  his  mother,  (uow  a  saint  iu 
heaven)  taken  when  she  was  a  girl  eighteen  yeart;  old.  Then  he  ^ 
spoke  feelingly  of  how  he  had  been  a  wanderer,  and  how  he  began 
to  think  it  was  time  he  had  settled  himself  for  good  ;  how  he  harf 
never  felt  exactly  ready  for  that  until  since  he  had  come  to  Dukes- 

borongh,  and  that — and  that— and  that embarrassment  would 

prevent  him  from  saying  more.  But  whenever  he  got  to  this  point, 
and  Miss  Angeliue's  heart  would  bo  about  to  burst,  and  she  would 
be  getting  ready  to  cast  herself  upon  his  faithful  boson,  he  would 
change  abruptly,  bci-onv  frightened,  go  awiiy  and  stay  away  for  a 
week. 

At  their  first  meeting  at  the  breakfast  table  after  such  scenes, 
Miss  Spouter  would  appear  (luitc  conscious,  hold  herself  yet  straight- 
er  and  endeavor  to  show  thuL  she  had  spirit.  But  before  she  had 
carried  it  far,  slic  would  couchide  to  stop  where  she  was,  go  back  and 
begin  again.     . 

CHAPTER  IV. 

But  while  these  things  were  going  on  among  the  Sp6utors,  what 
had  become  of  the  Peas  ?     who  ^er  supposes  that  Miss  Georgiana 
was  buried  in  the  country,  dead  or  alive,  is  simply  mistaken.     When 
«he  heard  that  there  was  a  new  store  in  town,  she  wanted  to  sec  it  ; 
and  when  uncle  Ben  heard  that  it  was  kept 'by  a  bachelor,  he  was 
dGtermincd  that  he  should  sec  his  daughter  ;  for  as  he  grew  oldei-, 
lis  anxiety  became  more  intense  for  Georgiana  (o  lind  some  body, 
LS  ho  expressed  it,   'to  take  keei*  of  her  when  my  head  gits  cold.' 
Jc  begged  her  several  times  to  go  before  she  was  ready. 
'Georgy,  put  on  your  'yaller  calikcr  and  go  long.' 
'Pap,  do  wait  till  T  get  ready.  '  T  do  believe  you  will  go  distracted.' 
Georgiana  waited  until  she  got  ready,  and  when  she  did  get  ready 
she  went.     Her  plan  was  to  go  and  spend  the  night  with  Miss 
Spoutcr,  and  in  company  with  her  ^nsit  tlie .  new   store  the  next 
morning. 

Some  persons  believe  in  presentiments,  and  some  do  not.  T 
hardly  know  what  to  think  <jf  such  things,  and  have  never  yet  made. 
up  my  mind  whether  they  are  reliable  or  not.  Sometimes  they  seem 
to  foreshadow  coming  events,  and  sometimes  they  are  clearly  at 
fault,  I  have  occasionally  had  dre-  tt?,  and  snbseciuout  events 
were  in  such  exact  accordance  with  li  i  that  I  have  been  inclined 
to  accord  to  them  much  of  the  importance  that  by  .some  persons  it 
is  maintained  they  have.  Then,  ag.iir.  t  '  ti reams  I  have  liad  (for  I 
liavo  alway.s  been  a  dreamer)  huyc  uc.       t  L>ntirely  unreasonable, 


I 


06  miMORore  tales. 

nay,  abi^uid.  and  even  ridiemlouK,  an  to  be  impossible  of  fulfillment. 
For  instance,  I  have  more  than  onoi-  dreamed  that  I  was  a  woman, 
and  I  have  since  been  much  amused  liy  (lie  recollection  of  some  vt 
the  silly  things  that  I  did  and  said  while  in  that  estate.  I  do  not 
consider  this  an  opportune  place  to  mention  them,  even  if  they  were 
worthy  of  mention  on  any  occasion,  nnd  I  allude  to  them  for  the 
purpose  of  saying  that  after  sucli  f  I  reams  I  have  been  disposed  to 
reject  the  whole  of  the  theory  of  dreams. 

liut  all  this  is  neither  here  nor  there.  The  divergence  from  my 
ftory,  though  natural,  cannot  with  ]iropriety  be  farther  extended, 
and  I  will  return  at  once  te  my  two  heroines  in  whose  deportment 
immediately  8uhscqucnt  to  what  wan  last  being  done  by  them  both, 
will  be  found  the  reason  why  such  divrrgener  was  made. 

No  sooner  had  Miss  Spoutcr  determined  fully  in  her  mind  that  she 
would  catch  Mr.  Slack  if  she  could,  than  .she  wa;*  conscious  of  n 
wavering  in  her  friendship  lor  Mists  I'ea  ;  for  .she  felt  that  that 
person  was  destined  to  be  the  greatist,  if  not  the  only  barrier  between 
her  and  the  object  of  her  pursuit.  Siie,  Miss  .Spoutor/had  seen  him 
first  she  thought.  She  had,  as  it  were,  found  him,  and  when  (leorge 
was  not  even  looking  for  any  .-Jmrh  jiroperty.  George  did  not  liave 
even  a  shadow  of  the  remotest  claim  to  him.  It  was  wrong  and  un- 
kind in  George  to  interfere.  .SAie,  Miss  Spouter,  wouldn't  have 
treated  her  so.  Now  all  this  was  l)eforc  Miss  Pea  had  ever  laid 
eyes  on  Mr.  Slack,  and  Miss  Spouter  knew  it.  That  made  no  diflcr- 
ence,  she  said  to  herself,  if  anything,  it  made  it  worse.  She  was 
liuit  and  she  could  not  help  it. 

Miss  Tea  might  have  had  a  presentiment  of  this  state  ol  things, 
and  she  might  not.  But  at  all  events,  when  she  went  upon  hei- 
visit,  she  carried  a  bucket  of  butter  as  a  present  to  Mrs.  Spouter. 
It  was  just  before  supper  time,  and  eonsciiuently  too  late  for  her  to 
return  that  evening.  If  it  had  not  been,  as  .she  afterwards  di-clared 
upon  her  word  and  honor,  she  would  have  done  so.  The  Spouters 
were  as  cold  as  ice.  Not  even  the  bucket  of  butter  could  warm  Mrs, 
Spouter  a  single  degree.  Strange  conduct  for  her.  Miss  Augeliuo 
at  first  thought  that  she  would  not  go  in  to  tlie  supper  table,  liut 
then  that  would  be  too  plain,  and  upon  reflection,  she  thought  she 
proferred  to  be  there. 

Miss  Pea  and  Mr.  Slack,  of  courso,  had  to  be  introduced,  lie 
found  her  disposed  to  be  chatty.  Miss  Spoutcr  looked  very  grave; 
and  raised  her  pocket  handkerchief  to  her  mouth,  as  an  occasional 
provincialism  fell  from  the  lips  of  her  country  visitress,  while  her 
dear  mother,  taking  tlio  cue,  would  ghmce  .•'lyly  at  Mr.  Slack  and 
snicker. 

'This  is  oneommon  good  butler,  Mrs.  Spoutcr,'  he  remarked  to  the 


UL'MOKODS   TA(.fc:;-. 


t)7 


lady  of  the  house ;  aucl  oli,  the   quantities  of  buttor   that  man   did 
consume  ! 

Now,  it  was  hqjn  MIslS  Pea's  bucket  ;  tliey  did  not  like  to  confess 
it,  bnt  they  had  it  to  do. 

'Ah  ?     Oh  I  well,  Miss  Pea's  mother  must  be  a  noble  housekeeper.' 
Mrs.  Pea  had  been  dead  several  years. 
'Ls  it  possible  ?     You,  then  I' 

Miss  Georg-iana  would  have  told  a  lie  if  she  had  not  acknowledged 
that  it  was. 

^Ir  Slack  bestowed  a  look  of  intense  admiration  upon  her  whicn 
made  Miss  Spouter  become  quite  grave,  and  her  mother  somewhat 
angry.  . 

After  supper  the  gentlenum  followed  the  ladies  into  the  parlor. 
Miss  Spouter  was  pensive,  ;ind  complained  of  head-ache.  Miss  Pea 
did  not  believe  she  had  i(,  and  therefore  she  spoke  freely  of  her 
father's  pliintalion,  of  what  ho  was  to  her  and  she  to  him,  and  of  liow 
he  was  akways  urging  her  to  get  man  led,  a  thing  which  she  had 
made  up  he^- iniud  never  to  do.  When  they  rt tired  for  the  night, 
Miss  Spouter  being  no  belter,  but  rather  worse,  they  did  what  they 
had  nevpr  done  in  their  lives  before,  tli(  y  bh']'i  npnrf.  This  was 
capping  the  climax,  and  Miss  Pea  went  home  th.  aext  morning, 
asking  herself  many  times  t^n  tlie  way,  if  friendship  was  anything 
but  a  name. 

It  seemod  to  be  a  sad  thing  that  these  young  ladies  should  part. 
Hand  in  hand  they  had  traveled  the  broad  road  of  life,  and  never 
jostled  each  other  when  men  were  plentiful.  But  these  animals  had 
broken  from  them  like  so  many  wild  cattle,  some  dodging  and  dart- 
ing between  them,  some  taking  to  by-paths,  and  some  wildly  leaping 
over  precipices,  until  now  they  were  drawing  nigh  to  the  road  of 
young  womanhood,  and  there  was  but  one  left  for  thcni  both.  If 
they  could  have  divided  hin>  it  might  have;  been  well  ;  but  he  was 
indivisible.  The  fact  is,  ^f  r.  Slack  ought  never  to  have  come  there, 
or  he  ought  to  have  brought  his  twin  brother  with  him. 

'What's  become  of  your  friend  V  he  inquired  at  breakfast. 

'.She's  gone  to  look  after  what  she  calls  her  father's  plantation,  I 
reckon,'  answered  Mrs.  Spouter,  sliarply. 

'Haint  her  father  got  any  jdantation,  then  V' 

'He's  got  a  little  bit  of  two  hundred  acres  of  tolerably  jjoor  land. 
That's  all  the  plantation  Iio'n  got.' 

'Oh,  ma  I'  interceded  Miss  Angeline,  'Georgianais  a  very  good  girl.' 

♦She  may  be  good,  but  if  you  call  her  a  g)\:^  I  don't  know  what  you 
would  (ftU  them  that's  fifteen  or  twenty  yeai.s  \i..  nger  ;  and  if  «he 
was  young  that  wouldn't  make  her  daddy  rich.' 

*0h,  no'  But,  oh,  ma!'  Miss  Spouter  pcr.sisted  in  a  general  way, 
for  she  seemed  to  think  that  this  was  all   that  could  be  said  in  her 


98 


HL'M«i;V»rS    TALK 


lavor.  HpoD  reflectiou  «be  aakcd  Mr.  Slack  if  he  did  not  think  Miss 
Pea  liad  a  good  figgcr.  Then  ;  ho  took  a  very  small  sip  <»f'  water, 
wiped  her  moutli  rarflully  and  coug-hcd  slightly.  -» 

'Wall,  I — ah,'  began  Mr.  Slack,  but  ma  laughed  so  immoderately 
that  he  laughed  too,  imd  did  not  iinish  giving  his  opinion  in  words 
Alas,  for  Miss  Pea*  Hig  as  she  was,  she  was  cut  all  to  pieces  and 
salted  away  by  Mrs.  t^'p  jutcr,  while  Miss  Angclinc  eonld  only  Ionic 
a  little  reproachfully  now  and  then,  and  sa/'Oh,  ma !' 

*  *  *  -^  V/  *  *:  *  :V 

'Two  hundred  acres,'  mused  Mr.  Slack  on  his  bed  that  uight.  hi 
Massachusetts  that  is  a  considerable  farm ;  other  property  in  propor- 
tion. What  would  it  bring  in  ready  money  if  the  old  gentleman  (hr 
is  old,  certain)  tihould  take  a  notion  to  give  it  up  noiv  ;  already  .t-ouui 
money.  He  brought  me  a  fine  watermelon  this  morning,  and  asked 
me  to  go  out  and  sec  them  all.  I'm  a  going.  Quick  work,  Adiet, 
(juick  work.' 

Mr.  Slack  was  a  hard  man  to  catch  ;  it  liad  been  tried  l/cl'on!  and 
had  failed.  Nevertheless,  BIr.s  Spouter  and  Miss  Six)uter,  about 
six  weeks  later,  actually  caught  him  in  the  act  of  coming  away 
from  Mr.  Pea's-  What  juade  it  worse,  he  had  a  bunch  of  pinks  in 
his  hand.  The  next  time  Misp  Spouter  met  Miss  Pea,  she  did  iiot 
speak  to  her.  She  only  shook  her  curls  and  said  to  herself  in  words 
which  were  audible,  Vuch  is  life.'  Georgiaua  folded  her  hands  over 
her  bosom  and  asked,  if  friendship  was  not  a  name,  what  was  it  ? 

But  the  man  maintained  his  place  at  the  table,  to  which  he  march- 
ed with  unusual  conlidence  and  good  humor  at  the  first  meal  nfter 
his  detection  ;  what  is  more,  the  Sttle  plates  maintained  their  places. 
In  spite  of  all  his  goings  to  the  Pea's  and  his  returning  wif  h  bunches 
of  pinks  in  his  hands,  his  deportment  in  any  other  respect,  had  mif, 
at  least  for  the  \\oi.  f,  changed.  Indeed,  he  looked  ofteuor  and 
more  proudly  at  i',-  ,  ,irls.  Yes,  thought  Miss  Spouter,  he  itay 
marry  her,  but  the  im.i-./  ,,r  Augeline  Spouter  is  in  his  breast,  and 
It  will  stay  there  forove'r.  JUit  for  lior  entreaties  her  ma  would  hav<- 
removed  the  little  plates  and  ^eut  him  back  to  the  other  end  of  th.- 
tabic,  where  he  came  from. 

'I'm  jest  the  woman  to  do  it,'  she  said".  ''J'hat  loug-logged  Yan- 
kee has  cat  more  than  his  ^^•orth  in  butter  alone.  The  house  '11 
lireak  or  Lc  eat  up,  it  makes  no  diflbrcnce  which,  and  nary  cent  of 
money  has  he  paid  yit.  Settle  hissclf,  indeed  1  He'll  never  settle 
hie  nasty  self  cxcipt  whar  tiiar's  money,  or  everlasthi  butter,  and 
he  not  to  pay  for  it  neither.  And  I'll  u':  >ve  them  plates  ty-morro 
mornin,  if  1  don't  yim  may ' 

'Oh,  ma!  he  don't  love  her,  1  know  he  donl.     l-et  them  Mtay  a 
while  longer.' 


HUMOROUS   TALES.  00 

Aud  the  next  mbrniug  the  little  plates  would  come  ia,  H^ko  their 
places  and  look  as  cheerful  as  if  nothing-  had  happened. 

Mr.  Slack,  did  a  cash  Inisincss.  Time  rolled  on  ;  the  faster  it 
rolled  the  cheaper  ho  sold.  His  stock  dwindled,  and  everybody' 
asked  wh}'  it  was  not  being  replenished.  It  began  to  bo  rumored 
that  he  was  goin^  to  buy  a  plantation  and  settle  himself.  The  ru- 
mor was  traced  to  uncle  Ben  Pea,  Miss  Georgiana  was  asked 
about  it  and  became  confused.  ^ 

'^e  .}4st  as  well  a  give  it  up,'  said  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  at  Mr. 
Spouter's  table.  Mr.  Bill  was  gradually  edging'  up  towards  '({uality 
eend'  as  he  termed  the  head,  'In  fac,  she  did  give  it  up  farly.  1 
axed  her  a  plain  question  ;  she  couldn't  say  nothin,  and  she  didn't. 
She  merrily  hung-  her  head  upon  lier  brcs,  aud  she  seem  monsous 
comfortubble.  !She  ar  evidenly  scogitattin  on  the  blessed  joys  of  a 
futur  state' 

The  next  morning*,  tb^^  "'tie  plates  were  absent,  and  Mr.  Slack, 
without  seeming  to  not'  that  Mr.  Bill  Williams  had  usurped  his 
place,  took  his  seat  by  I'  .  pouter  and  talked  Xvith  him  in  the  man- 
ner of  a  man  who  hri-;  •  'ea  on  a  jojirney  of  some  weeks  and  had 
now  returned.  -Tliat  go.  ioraan  did  not  seem  to  be  at  all  congratu- 
latory on  the  occasion,  but  immediately  a^*-er.  breakfast  brought 
within  view  of  his  guest  an  amount  for  three  months'  board.  Tho 
latter  looked  over  it  careful!; ,  renarked  that  ho  thought  it  was  cor- 
rect, bogged  that  it  m"ght  he  considered  as  cash,  and  walked  away. 
This  was  an  eventful  day  to  Mr.  Slack,  for  b«shles  the  aforemen- 
tioned incident,  ho  sold  out  tho  remainder  of  his  stock  to  Messrs. 
Bland  and  Jones,  went  without  his  dinner,  borrowed  a  gig  from  the 
.Tustici!  of  the  Peace,  took  him  along  with  him  to  Mr*  Pea's,  wlun-o, 
nt  three  o'clock  P.  M.  he  was  married  to  Mi.ss  Greorgiana. 

'Wvetched  creature  !'  exclaimed  Angelina,  the  forsaken,  wiien 
Iter  mother  inlormed  her  of  the  news  at  night.  At  first  she  thought 
she  would  faint ;  but  she  did  not.  She  i-etired  to  her  room,  undress- 
ed, looked  at  her  curls  in  the  glass,  even  longer  than  was  her  wont, 
put  them  away  tenderly,  got  into  bed,  aposti'ophiscd  property  and 
the  other  .sordid  things  of  this  world,  and  went  to  sleep  with  this 
thought  upoit  her  mind  :  'Georgiana  Pea  may  be  by  his  side,  bu( 
the  Ullage  of  Anpcline  Spoufpr  is  in  his  breast,  and  it  will  stay  there 
forever 

ClIAPTEK  V. 

'  not  joiiKKl  by  Heaven?'' 

FairPeniloiii. 

(ieorgiaua  was  married  and  her  father  wa,«i  satisfied.     It  was  whai 
h9  had  wished    >  ir,r,r..  ijme.     The  danger  ot  going  distracted  was 


100  HUMOKOLb   TALES. 

over,  lie  would  have  preferred  a  Southeru  uiau,  it  is  true,  but  all 
of  tliaL  class  had  discovered  such  ;i  wajit  to  appeciate  his  Georgy 
tliat  be  persuaded  himself  that  she  had  made  a  narrow  escape  iu  not 
marrying  one  of  them.  Mr.  Slack  had  some  \viiyii  (jf  doing  and  talk- 
ing that  he  did  not  quite  understand  ;  but  lie  believed  that  they 
would  wear  off.  Georgy  now  had  a  husband  to  take  care  of  her 
when  his  head  got  cold,  and  that  war  enough.  She  did  not  seeui 
to  be  perfectly  happy^  but,  on  the  contrary,  somewhat  ill  at  ease. 
But  then  she  wasn't  any  young  thing  to  let  getting  married  run  her 
raving  distracted.  He  liked  Mr.  Slack  upon  the  whole  ;  he  suitetl 
him  well  enough,  and  that  is  what  parents  generally  care  mostly 
for.  He  wa.s  a  busincs-s  man,  that's  what  he  wau.  He  talked  upon 
business  even  on  the  afternoon  of  liis  marriage,  and  roiewed  the 
.subject  after  sui)per  and  the  next  morning.  One  would  have  thought, 
to  liear  him  talk  about  bnsiiess,  th:'  t!  o  honey  moon  had  shone  out 
and  gone  down  long  agix  It  did  ;  ..  look  exactly'  riglit ;  but  now, 
that  Mr.  Slack  was  a  married  m;.:  .  iic  was  for  making  something. 
If  /ic;  owned  tlic  farm,  he  .should  do  iJiis  thing  and  that  thiug,  sell 
this  piece  of  property  and  convert  it  ii.to  cash  ;  in  short,  he  should 
sell  out  the  \phole  concern  and  go  where  land  was  cheaper  and  bet- 
ter. If  it  were  left  to  him  he  shovld  turn  it  over,  so  that  in  twelve 
months  it  should  be  worth  at  !(;;i'  wicc  as  much  as  it  was  now.  It 
was  Vt.ry  clear  to  uncle  Ben  that  hi.s  son-in-law  was  a  bu.^iness  man  ; 
still,  he  did  not  make  oui  thj  title  deetls.  Notwithstanding  his 
hints  to  that  eflect  hm  c  tofore,  he  had  never  entertained  tho  slightest 
notion  of  such  a  thing.  When  Mr.  Slock  persisted  in  saying  what 
ho  should  do  if  he  were  the  ownoi',  the  old  gentleman  took  occasion 
to  say,  but  in  a  somewhat  jocose  way,  that  ho  and  <ieorgy  would 
have  to  wait  lor  that  until  his  head  got  cold,  which,  he  said  by  wa3' 
of  consohng  loi-  tin;  disappointment,  wouldn't  be  ranch  longer.  Thi.s 
was  only  a  day  or  two  after  the  marriage.  Mr.  Slack  seemed  to  be 
somewhat  hurt,  but  lie  merely  remarked  that  hn  had  a  plenty  to  live 
on,  and  that  all  he  wanted  with  ])ropcrty  was  (or  Tieorgiana  to  enjoy 
it.  He  had  money  enough  to  buy  a  tract  ol'  land  adjoining  Mr.  idea's 
and  two  or  three  fellows.  If  (Jeor/iiana  had  a  good  house  woman  it 
would  save  her  from  a  gooil  deal  vf  work  whiclx  now,  since  .sho  was 
his  wife,  he  would  rather  she  didn't  have  to  <Io  •  but — ah —he  sup- 
posed he  should  have  to  wait  for  that. 

Yes,  but  he  needn't  to  do  any. such,  thing,  Mr.  I'ea  stoutly  main- 
tained. Those  being  Mr.  Slack'.s  intentions  the  'oman  should  be 
bought.  The  money  was  there  in  that  side-board  drawer  whenever 
they  found  one  to  .suit  them.  He  should  buy  the 'oman  himself. 
The  Ron-iudaw's  countenance  brightened  a  little.  He  might  have  to 
go  to  Augusta  in  a  few  days  ;  the  likeliest  gangs  were  there  gen- 
erally, and  it   might  suit  juat  as  well  to  take  the  money  along  with 


miMOROtlS  TALES.  101 

him  and  buy  the  woman  there.  Georgiana  didn't  say  anything  ;  but 
la  me,  what  did  she  know  about  business  ? 

Mr.  Slack  sent  into  the  village  every  day  for  the  mail,  for  Dukes- 
borough  being-  immediately  on  the  great  line  of  travel,  had  its  daily 
inail.  Ho  had  been  married  less  than  a  week,  when,  one  morning 
a  letter  was  brought  to  him  which  made  him  turn  a  little  pale. 
Upon  his  father-in-law's  incjuiry  from  whence  it  came,  he  answered 
after  a  moment's  hesitation,  that  it  was  from  a  man  who  owed  him 
some  money,  and  who  had  writtcu  to  say  that  if  he  would  meet  him 
the  next  day  in  Augusta,  he  would  pay  him  a  hundred  dollars  and 
renew  the  note.  A  hundred  dollars  indeed  I  The  rascal  had  prom- 
ised to  pay  half  the  note,  and  now  as'ho  wa.s  about  settling  himsell 
he  was  to  be  put  oil:  with  a  hundred  dollars-  He  had  a  good  mind 
not  to  go  and  v.  ould  not  bnt  for  the  importance  of  having  the  note 
renewred.  l^ut  could  he  j^et  there  in  time  ?  How  was  that  Mr.  Pea  'i 
Why,  it  was  easy  enough  ;  the  stage  would  pass  in  a  couple  of  hours, 
und  as  it  traveled  all  night,  he  could  reach  Augusta  by  nine  o'clock 
the  next  morning.  Mr.  Slack  hesitated.  He  was  loth  to  go  so  soon 
after  being-  married,  but  as  he  had  expected  to  go  in  a  few  days  any 
how,  he  guessed  he  had  as  well  to  go  on  at  once,  especially  as  ne- 
groes seemed  to  be  rising  in  price,  and  it  was  important  to  get  the 
woman  as  soon  as  possible.  Certainly  business  was  business,  if 
people  were  married.  Mr.  Slack  ought  to  go  at  once  ;  he  should  if  it 
was  him. 

Uncle  lien  took  out  the  money,  and  Georgiana  ordered  luucli. 
Mr.  Slack  had  ro  often  complained  of  the  old  gentleman's  time  piece, 
that  the  latter,  upon  his  entreaties  to  be  allowed  to  take  it  with  him 
for  repairs  (at  no  expense  to  the  owner  of  course)  consented.  The 
man  of  business  then  went  to  packing  his  trunk  and  satchel.  Al- 
though he  was  to  stay  but  three  days  at  furthest,  yet,  not  knowing 
but  that  he  might  need  them,  he  packed  in  all  his  clothes,  looking 
about  all  over  the  house  to  be  sure  that  he  had  n()t  mislaid  anything. 

It  was  a  nice  lunch.  It  oughf  to  have  been,  for  it  took  along- 
time  to  be  gotten  ready.  Mr.  Slack  was  not  sure  that  he  was  going 
to  get  his  supper,  and  he  therefore  determined  to  put  away  enough 
to  last  him  to  the  end  of  his  journey.  He  had  barely  finished  when 
the  servant,  who  had  been  stationed  to  watch  for  the  stage,  announc- 
ed that  it  was  coming.  He  bade  both  an  aftcctionate  adieu,  looked 
inio  the  stage  to  sec  if  there  was  any  person  in  it  whom  he  knew, 
didn't  seem  to  be  disappointed  that  there  was  not,  hopped  in,  and 
oflF  he  went. 

Far  from  pining  on  account  of  the  absence  of  her  mate,  Georgiana. 
sensible  woman  that  she  was,  went  about  her  wo^-k  as  cheerfully  as 
if  nothing  had  happened.  She  liad  been  so  taken  up  with  Ur.  Slack 
that  several  small  domestic  maeters  needed  to  be  put  to  rights  again, 


102  HUMOEOUb  TALES. 

aud  she  c-eemed  to  be  even  glad  of  the  opportuai^  to  iqok  alter  them.  She  ac- 
(ually  suug  at  lier  work— she  wab  a  gooil  eiii£;eii»  toy.  The  Pens  always  had 
[yi'cn;  I  knew  the  Jamily  we'l.  ishc  wasiit  paiiip  to  Jret  licrself  to  death,  cer- 
inin  and  sure.    So  fslie  resumed  her  old  tasl  i  ,  moved  things  liack  to 

iheiroM  p]ac(*s,  :ni<l.  in  ovorr  i. •>!;.■. ■!.  .lid  ;  '  f-""  ■ '"it1<'ii  tlrU  slif^  bn<l 

( vcr  been  manied. 

TTncle  Ben  Wa;'  gluJ  lu  .-it    in  :   iJi  .-uvu  ^a_y  .-pjm'.       in.  i.m  .>    wiiai  11   »\.(.-  all 

for,  and  he  laughed  inwardly  and  became  gay  liiniself.  It  wiis  that  nigger 
'umau.  'J'ho  old  man  eoanled  ten  day,s  aud  ui^ht.  As  inucb  as  he  wanted  tu 
.sec  Mr.  Slack,  lie  wanted  yet  more  to  see  his .  watoh  ;  without  it  he  felt  like  a 
man  without  a  newly  amputated  leg.  Bnt  that  he  would  not  allow  to  trouble 
him  very  much.  He  talked  a  threat  deal,  espct-ially  at  meal  times  about  his 
(ieorgy'.s  prospects,  joked  hcrulioat  many  things,  talked  of  the  prospects  again 
;ind  what  he  and  Mr.  Slack  were  going  to  do  lo  make  her  the  happiest  woman 
in  the  world.  Georgiana  never  suggested  anyclnni.^c  nfilifir  i.1;;n  \  and  Innkid 
lis  if  she  intended  to  be  but  clay  in  their  bands. 

Tlirecdayspafirred.     .Mr.  Slack's  very  longest  tiiue  waa  ouL     1  lie  .stHj^e  liov*' 
in  view  ;  Mr.  Pea  was  at  his  gate,  Ms  hat  was  in  his  hand. 

Good  mornin,  undo  Ben/  6ai3  the  driver,  and  was  passing  on. 
'Mellol  hello,  Thompson,'  shouted  the  old  man.    Thompson  drew  up 
»     'llaiut  you  irol  ]\Ir.  Slack  idxiard  .' 
•No,  Sir  I" 

'Haint  you  got  a  ni;;i;i  i    miiah  ; 
•No,  sir.' 

'Whav's  Mr.  Slack  V 
'I  don't  know.' 
'ilaint  you  soQd  him  V 
♦Xo,  sir.' 

'ilaint  you  hcaiu  (if  him  '^'  * 

'No,  sir.' 

'Why,  wlfut  upon  yearth  does  it  mean ''. 

Mr.  Slack  didn't  go  to  nary  tavern,  but  got  ofi  at  a  privit  'ouae  way  uj)  town. 
1  haint  seed  him  nor  heernfrom  him  scncP.    Was  he  to  get  back  to-night  ?' 
'Why,  yes,  certain  and  sure  without  fail.' 
VWli,  he  uint  here,  certin.    Good  evenin.' 

'■  f"  haint  como.  dV  or"v."  <-'p.id  iiiifli^  Ri-'ii.  :m  Im  wpid  inlo  f!ir  Imnqp 
•ila-n'tbe?' 
•Why,  no.  he  ham i 
■Well,  we  nrast  Irjr  r.iid  v.Tvit  till  be  do^  i    i  ^ 


HtfMOEOCS   TALES.  103 

Uncle  Ben  wcs  too  much  occupied  with  his  own  disappointment  to  observe 
the  equanimity  with  which  (ieorgy  bore  here.  It  was  now  bed  lime;  the 
daughter  went  to  her  room,  the  father  sat  up  at  least  halCan  hour  longer  than 
Mfcual.  JiE  was  disappointed,  certaiu  and  siiro.  When  people  told  people  they 
were  coming  at  a  certain  time,  he  wanted  'eiu  to  come  ;  especially  when  thoy 
had  people's  watches.  Oh,  how  he  had  missed  it !  If  he  had  missed  it  by  day 
he  had  missed  it  as  much  by  night.  It  used  to  hang  by  a  nail  over  his  bed,  and 
he  longed  for  the  gentle  lullaby  of  its  tickings,  lie  had  to  go  to  bed,  of  course, 
but  he  lay  awake  another  half  an  hour.  A  dreadfjjl  thought  came  :  What  if 
Mr.  Slaek,  after  all,  was  an  uiPosTERKii  I  Oh,  ho  couldn't  bear  it.  So  he 
turned  over  and  went  to  sleep  ;  but  it  woul.ln  t  stay  behind,  it  crawled  over  and 
came  close  to  him  in  his  sleep,  and  he  dreamed  that  he  was  the  owner  of  a 
^  jcwclcv's  shop, and  that  while  he  liad  n,)  power  to  move,  thieves  were  breaking 
(h)"ough  and  stealing. 

The  next  morning,  immediately  after  breaklast,imclo  Bcu  stood  at  his  gate 
lie  had  a  notion  that  Mr.  Slack  wa.s  coming  in  a  private  conveyance.  Sure 
enough,  yonder  came  a  gig  with  a  man  in  it  and  a  horse  bekind  with  some- 
thing on  the  horse.  Uncle  Ben's  eyes  Avere  dim,  and  he  couldn't  make  it  out  ■ 
but  he  hoped  and  believed  that  it  was  a  nigger  'oman.  Vain  hope  and  vain' 
belief!  The  gig  carried  Mr.  Triplet,  the  dmjuty  Shcrifl;  and  the  horse  bore 
Mr.  Packet,  a  young  lawyer  from  town.  Uncle  Ben  liad  no  business  with 
(hem,  certain  and  .sure;  so  he  bade  them  a  good  morning,  as  they  came  up 
and  again  turned  his  eyes  up  the  road.  But  the  gentlemen  stopped  and 
^nqun-cd  if  Mr.  Slack  was  at  home.  No,  but  Mr.  Ra  looked  for  him  every 
instant.  He  had  been  gone  to  Augusfy  three  days.  ;n.,l  was  to  a  been  back 
last  night,  but  he  didn't. 

Mr.  Triplet  looked  upon  Mr,  PuckcL  and  sn^ilcd  ;  Mr.  Tucket  looked  upon 
Triplet,  but  did  not  smile. 
'You  must  follow  him.' 

There  must  some  foller  him  that  kin  run  !■,-,„.,•  d,,,,,  t  kin ;  answorod  Mr 
Triplet. 

'Foller  who  V  a^ked  Mr.  Pen. 
^[r.  Slack.' 

•Why he'll  be  here  tu-n.ght.  Or  1 11  bn  boundj.es  in  a  private  conveyance 
and  11  be  here  this  mornin,  Tn  cose  he's  comin  back;  becase  he's  got  four 
hundred  dollars  of  my  money  to  buy  a  nigger  'oman  with,  and  ray  watch  be- 
sides.    In  cose  he's  comin  bark." 

♦ 

Mr.  Triplet  looked  upon  Mr.  Pea  and  smiled  compassionately  Mr.  ppu 
.looked  upon  Mr.  Triplet  and  frowned  Ihrenfningly. 


104  uriiOEori  tales. 

^Vhat■&  the  matter,  Jim  TripUt .. 

The  mailer  ar,  Ihat  you  won't  r.e«'  your  four  liundrcd  dollars  agin,  nor  your 
watch,  nor  the  gentleman  what  c.irricd  'cm  off." 

•Why,  what  upon  yairth  is  yuu  talkin  about . 

'I  ar  lalkin  about  the  husinoKs  of  my  uflSoc,  whicli  '.  Mr   Adial 

Slaik,  ur  Mr.  Elisha  Luvcjoy.  or  Mr.  Ephraini  liamliii,  <t  wimt  inou*  hf  lh« 
name  of  the  gp.ntlnnan  tliat  carrieil  off  yon r  tniir  hnn<hr'1  dollai;;  and  ynm 
watch.' 

•'Don't  kick  before  yuu  le  tpuircd,  Triplet,  I'tcujf  ui'li ..  .  .,  ..ccuu-d  iiin' 

of  takin  the  money  and  watch — least  wjiys  of  steal  in  il.  Mr.  Slack  is  a  hone- 
man  and  my  son-in-law.  and  T  Ifll  ytN'i  he'll  be  Jjack  to-uiglit.  and  1  Kx>k  foi 
liim  every  niinit  of  the  day.' 

.So  much  the  better  fur  us  if  he  do  come.  I  has  not  tome  to  arresii  liim  fi'i 
taking  of  the  money  and  the  watch,  which  is  misdemeanors  tliat  I  didu  i 
know  of  tell  now.  But  he  h  charge  of  oblainin  credit  by  falpc  pretension.'^,  ol 
fitealin  divers  monrj-,  of  trndin  with  nigger?,  and  finally,  with  marryin  (hrr- 
wimming,  and  not  waitin  for  nary  one  of  "em  to  die  fust.' 

'Oh,  Lordy!*  exclaimed  Mr.  Pea.  He  then  a})proachal  tlio  bherift".  and  ii' 
a  tone  which  invited  candor  and  confidence,  and  even  hinted  at  gratitude,  said, 

'.fooms  Triplet.  I  voted  for  yon,  yon  know  1  did;  I  always  lins.  Ar  whai 
you  Hay  a  fac  ?'  • 

'I  know  yuu  did,  uncle  lien,  and  1  (cU  you  tlie  plain  trutli,  it  ar  a  far 
Tliay  aint  no  doubt  about  it.     Mv.  Tucket  here  can  tdl  you  all  about  it." 

Mr.  Pea,  without  waiting  to  hear  further,  turned  and  got  into  the  Jiousc  a. 
fast  a.s  he  could,  lie  went  into  a  .shed  room  with  unconnaon  desperation  for 
a  man  of  his  years,  and  raised  his  hands  in  onlcr  to  take  down  a  shot  gun 
1  lom  two  forks  on  which  it  u.sed  to  hang.  Tho  forks  were  there,  but  the  gun 
wjw;  gone.  'He  lo(jkcd  at  the  forks  with  the  most  resentful  astonishment,  anil 
with  a  voice  towering  witli  pa«sion.  asked  them  what  in  the  name  of  thunder 
had  Ix'come  of  his  gun?  Not  receiving  any  answer,  he  put  llie  same  inter- 
rogatory to  the  corner  behind  the  door,  to  the  space  under  the  bed,  and  oven 
to  two  small  glass  drftwers,  after  opening  and  shutting  them  uith  great  vio- 
lence. He  then  Van  back  to  the  front  door  and  questioned  the  whole  universe 
on  the  subject. 

'RoiiREu!  nonuKu!!'  roared  the  old  man.     'Gen-tul-nKu,  ef  1  aint  robijcd. 

.'     Mr.  Pea  had  not  'cussed'  before  (as  he  afterwards  declared  upon  Kv 

>\ard  and  honor)  in  twenty  years. 

'Georgy!  Where's  Geurgy  V'  It  just  now  occurred  to  him  tin  i  ii  w.m  pus. 
.sibh'that  Geofgy  might  not  like  the  state  of  thing-;  bei^cll". 


HUMOKOCti     TALL*.  105 

(jiooigiuiui  had  liofii  at  the  dany.  supciiutcndiiiL;  lior  Initlcr.  She  Iiad  seen 
the  men  as  tliey  came,  had  gono  into  (ho  house  as  quietly  as  slio  could  and 
was  peeping  and  listening  thTOUi!;li  (lie  wLudw  of  hor  own  room. 

'Pap,'  she  said,  not  loudly,  but  earnestly,  'do  conm  hero,  if  you  plcat-c' 

lie  went  into  her  room. 

'1  reckon  now  yoii're  satisfied.  Mc':^  gotr  what  he  came  hei;e  for;  he's  stole 
from  yott,  iuul  he's  stole  from  me ;  I  haint  a  pocket  handkerchief  to  my  name- 
Uut  do,  for  goodness'  sake,  go  and  send  them  men  aAvay." 

'Oh,  Lordy!'  reiterated  Mr.  Pea,  retiring.  'fJen-tul-men,  its  no  use,  we 
are  cotcht ;  Georgy  and  me  has  botli  been  cotcht — I  aclcnowlcdge  the  corn  ; 
and  what  is  worser,  it  seem  that  I  am  the  cause  of  it  all.  Ho  have  took  my 
money,  he  laave  took  my  watch,  he  have  took  my  guu,  ami  ila-ing  his  low 
life  skin,  ho  have  even  took  Georgy's  pocket  handkercliiefs.  il  seem  like  he 
jest  picked  me  and  Georgy  out  fur  all  liis  rascalities.  ;\nd  to  tliink  that  I 
should  be  ensed  for  it  all.  1  did  want  her  to  maVry.  It  look  like  a  pity  for 
lier  not  (o  git  married.  And  uow  she  is  married,  and  what  have  she  married? 
A  nasty,  da-dbla.sted  thievious  Yankee,  and  aint  even  married  at  thai.  She  is 
n^rried  and  she  aint  married;  and  I  don't  understand  it;  and  ef  (here's 
eonchekenclus,  thay  aint  nobody  can  tell  what  it  will  be;  and  Georgy's  name 
will  go  down  to  ]iov;t,.v;(  V  nivl  the  Pons  wont  Iv  ivbodv  any  more;  and— 0)i, 
Lordyl" 

'Pap,  ilo  lor  i^ooduess  gracious'  .sake,  hubh  ami  come  in  tlie  iiouse,'  .s;iiiJ 
Lieorgiana,  advancing  to  the  front  door.  'The  Lord  knows  I'm  glad  I  aiul 
married  ;  and  if 'them  other  women  don't  grieve  after  him  any  more  than  1 
grieve  after  him.  th^y'vp  dono  forgot  him.  that's  nil.  Pap,  do  come  in  (lip 
house.' 

Mr.  Pea  suli.siiled,  and  I  hi-  men  rode  away.     Mr.  Pucket  l)eggeJ  Mr.  Trip-   ' 
let  to  hnsten.  but  the  latter,  who  wa.s  too  old  to  be,  rinniintc  f'l    nothiu,'^  (]>•- 
rlared,in  round  terms  that  he'd  be  dinged  cf  he  did. 

I  wouldn't  a  made  niy.self  ridiculou.s,  Pap,  before  eonijiany,  il  Id  a  iieeii  fu 
your  place.  That  w.<is  pretty  talk  lo  have  before  men.  and  I  in  the  house 
hearin  every  word.' 

Mr.  Pea,  hpiiring  lum.seir  accused  of  a  new  eiime,  couMiit  .stand  if.' 

I  do  believe  that  if  old  Saton  was  tn  come,  it  would  be  me  tliat  fotch  him, 
ni  le.i«tways  sent  for  Viim,  and  I'd  nn  leave  ho  liad  a  come  a,"*  that  d-adblasled 
Yankee.  Yes,  its  iVie,  in  cose  its  me.  Anything  wrong,  I  done  it  ;  tili.'Ves. 
in  cose,  certing.  Whar's  my  h.atV  And  the  good  laan  .sallied  forth  to  liis 
field,  where  he  remained  until  dinner  time.  Tliere  were  so  many  contending, 
emotions  in  his  breast  that  he  ate  in  silence.  Georgiana  had  a  f^ootl  ai»petl*e  : 
she  ate  av^y  with  a  gii3to  and  eyed  her  father  amusedly. 


10f»  HUMOKOUS    TALEb. 

Tap,  if  I'll  IcU  you  eomething  will  you  swciu  you'll  keep  ii . 

I'ncle  Bell  laid  down  his  knilc  and  fork  and  gazed  at  ber  in  amazeuicni . 

Wipe  your  mouth.  Pap,  aiui  toll  nio  if  you'll  h'vcar. 

What  is  if."  he  dsniauded  aiithoritiitively. 

Will  you  hwcar,  1  a^kcd  you'.'' 
•That's?  a  mighty  iHxtty  tjue-stiou  for  a  child  to  ask  its  jjarciii 

Oh,  very  well.'    And  she  helped  hersrlf  Mjaiu    from   lirr  i  uoiitr  .1;  ;, 
Won't  you  have  some  more,  pap  V 
•Georgy,  what  does  you  moan  V 
'Will  you  swear'.'' 

'No,  I  WONT.' 

•Oh,  very  well  then.      And  .-jlie  j)cpiiored  and  saitcti. 
Well,  I  never  'spected  to  come  to  thi.s  wliile  ray  head  w.is  hot.     My  owu 
child,  that  I've  raised,  and  raised  respectable,  to  be  settiu  thar,  at  my  own 
table,  a  axin  her  own   parrcnt  to  swar,  jist  the  same  as  cf  I  was  gwine  infn  .1 
Free  Mason's  lodge,  which  she  knows  I  don't  hold  with  no  sich.' 

'I'ap,  I've  hcafd  you  often  talkin  again.st  the  Free  Vasons.  I  never  tlioupli 
they  were  so  mighty  bad.     ^^^lat  do  Ihej-  do  that  is  so  awfnl  bad?' 

'You  don't  do  you?  No,  1  .suppose  yon  don't;  in  rose  yon  don't,  laW 
nrter  them  as  you  do,  in  cose  you  don't.' 

'How  do  I  take^after 'em  ?' 

•In  havin  o'  secrets  that's  n  .sin  to  keep,  and  in  tryin  to  make  jKiiplc  .sw.t: 
that  they  won't  tell  'em.  ;rnd  n<4  even  to  tlieir  own  p;irrrn1<;.  Tint",  how  yon 
Hre  takiii  artir  them. 

'Oh,  yes,  I  .set!  now,'  she  said,  appearing  to  niURe.  '.Siiil  tliis  is  isouiclhing 
that  I  couldn't  tell  without  your  KweariuR  not  to  mention  In  a  blessed  soul, 
its  wortli  swearin  for,  pap.' 

•Ar  it  anything  conccrniuR  t''"''  •>""  oi  nmnuiv  Vinlcii  • 
If  it  is  will  yoti  swear  ?' 

'Yes,  I  WILL,  and  cu^  1   want  nir.     I'vl- lici-ii  a  cussin  to  myself 

jH  day  any  how.' 

•You've  cuB.sed  t<y  otlier  people  besideB  yourself,  but  1  '-nly  want  you  to 
swear.'  ^ 

She  brought  the  family  Biblf. 

'L;i,  Georgy,  is  you  in  ycarnent  sure  enouSh  V     Wby,  what  tlo  you  mean  ? 

Y(M  aiiit  no  Jesticc.' 

'> 

It  made  no  difference ;  she  made  him  place  his  h:ind  on  the  book  anil  swear 

that  lie  would  never  reveal  wlu'iL  ^lie  wos  going  to  tell  him  wthout  her  con- 

E«nt     Undt  Ben  was  very  fiolemn  while  the  oath  was  being  adminbtered. 


HtTMOROTTB  TALES.  107 

It  required  several  minutes  to  iiftpart  the  sccvel.  "The  old  man's  joy  was 
boundlcys.  He  jumped  up  and  ran  into  his  own  room,  where  he  cut  up  more 
capers  than  any  ono  couM  have  believed  that  he  could  cut  up  ;  he  ran  back 
;if:;aiti,  made  (rcorgiana  rise  from  the  table,  hugged  her,  and  made  her  sit  down 
again;  lie  ru.shc<l  lo  Ihe  front  door  and  huzzaed  io  (lie  ttulcr  world;  he  rushed 
back  again  and  hugged  Gcorgy  as  .sh(!  sa(.  Then  he  took  his  seat  again  and 
looked  upon  her  with  ineffable  admiralion,     Huddcidy  he  grew  serious. 

,  *0h,  Georgy'  no  if  I  only  had " 

B  efore  he  could  speak'  further  she  lakeii  wmcthing  from  her  bosom,  and 
handed  it  to  him.  He  seized  it  witji  both  hands,  gazed  at  it,  held  it  at  arm's 
length  and  gazed  at  it.  opened  and  looked  into  it,  shut  it  up  again,  held  it  for 
a  moment  to  his  car.  }>atted  it  gently,  laid  it  on  the  table,  then  lifted  up  hi« 
voice' and  woiif. 

CHAPTER  VI. 

"I  giiini.  I  iiui  a  woman." 

Julias  Cwsar. 

When  tlie  new.',  ul    Mr.  f^iack's  escapade  reached  Dukcsborough,  there    wa 
running   to  and   fro;  business  was  suspended.     Some  asked  if  the  like  had 
rvcr  been  heard  o).     Others  asked  every  body  if  thVy  hadn't  told  him  s(.).     .1. 
Spoutcr  was  among  the  former,  and  Mr.  Bill  Williams  among  the  latter.     He 
got  leave  of  absence  from   the  store  in  order  to  rojm   up  and   down  all   the 
foraioon,  for  the  purpose  of  proving  that  he  had  prophesied  what  had  taken 
l)lace  or  its  equivalent.     He  was  delighted.     My    observation  is  that  almost 
everybody  isj  by  the  verification  of  a  prophecy,  which  he  has  ufade,  or  which 
lie  thinks  he  has  made.     Miss  Spouter   tried  to  laugh,  but  she  didn't   make 
much  ont  of  it.     Mrs.  Spouter  dichi't  laugh  at  all.    How  could  sJic  when  she 
remembered   the  plates  of  butter  that  had  been  consumed  not  only  without 
thanks  but  without  pay  ?     She  did  all  the  talking  in  the  domestic  circle.    >Ir. 
Spouter   seemed  inclined   to  be  taciturn.     He  merely  remarked  that  he   had 
never  been  so  oiited  in   his  bom  days,  and  then  shut,  up.     But,  the«.  Mr. 
Spouter  never  had  much  tx)  ."^ay  when  Mrs.  Spouter  had  the  floor;  If  how- 
ever, he  had  had  the   floor  now,  there  was  nothing  for  him  to  say.     He  had 
not  sued  his'  debtor  Init  for  reasons  other   than  the  being  a  merciful   creditor. 
He  wa,s  not  us«tl  to   such  things.     Indeed.  <he   very  word  suit  was,  and  had 
long  been,  disagreeable  to  his  ear.     So  much  so.  that  he  had  never  gone;  into 
court  of  his  own  accord.     It  was  one  of  his  l>oasts,  in  comparing  himself  with 
some  others,  that  he  had  never  been  plaintiff  in  an  artion,  and  never  expected 
to  be.     He  nlway.^  discouraged  }wople  from  noing  to  law,  maintaining  tli.ii 
people  never  £ofr  much  by  going  there,  a  remark  that  waa  true,  whou  con- 


,    108  HUMOROrS    TALES.  . 

finrd  in  ite  application  (6  (h«sc  ulu>  hat]  gnle  tiiciv,  carrying  him  with  them 
Yrf,  Mr.  Spoitlor  scMoni  hipt  n  l>il1.  It  wait  alu-:iysa  wonder  l«»  nu- how 
nipidly  pcrwiis  in  liis  ci>n(Htion  < miKl  coiloot  their  hills.  But  this  lime  Mr. 
Spuuter,  ;!s   he  Mid,  was  otitwl.     As  ho  didn't  roliish  "Mr.  Rill  Williams'  ji>k», 

and  a.s  Mrs.  Si...iit.r  <li.ln"f  •.,.,!  ,1  1,.^ .  :.;  Mi-- '^»>..'>t.  >•  Ji.ln't  M,  \\  W.  had 
(o  suspend. 

Wk'T  Mr.  rii«kcl  I  Ills  uiiinl  li:ul  Imn  t-xl  u\'^'n  a  Ice;  Ijul  a.-,  no  «.'nc  could 
be  I'diuid  who  could  run  fa.'-lar  Ihiin  Mr.  Tripht.  ami  a.s  llic  fugitive  had  f^ottij^i 
three  days' start,  there  wa.s  no  pursuit.  Nunc  hut  a  hricflosjs  hvwyor  can 
iina;L;inchow  hadly  Mr.  I'uckct  Wit. 

'.Vnd  so  she  isn't  liiarritnl  after  all !'  said  Miss  8poutcr  to  hcrscll',  when'^lit! 
was  alone  in  her  chamber  th;it  iiif^ht.  'Not  luarrictl  after  all ;  no  more  tliaii 
1  am.  Yes.  1  suppose  more  than  I  am,  because  she  thought  she  was  manioib 
and   I  KXKw  1   wasn't.    That   makes  some  diflerancc;  and  then — and   then 

,'  but  it  was  t<x>  wonderful  for  Miss  Spoulor,  she  couldn't  make  it  out.  So 

she  only  said,  'Oil,  1  wonder  how  she  feels!' 

Now,  there  was  but  one  way  to  get  the  desired  inlormation,  and  that  was 
to  sec  her  ;uid  hear  it  from  her  own  mouth.  To  most  persons  that  way  would 
seem  tube  baiTod,  becjiusc  the  hu5t  ticnc  the  two  hulies  met,  Miss  Spoulra*  had 
refusud  to  speak.  But  it  did  not  .seem  *>  to  her;  slic  would  herself  remove 
.dl  obstacles:  yiiii  would  foboivk  (jKORCiK!  Yes,  that  she  woidd.  Wasn't 
it  noble  to  forgive  ?  Didn't  t ha  Bililo  tcaeh  us  to  forgive?  Ye-s,  she  would 
forgive.  What  a  glory  overspread  the  heart  of  the  iujuretl  wJien.  in  that  ton, 
dcr  Ojouieut,  iihc  found  she  could  forgive.  She  wished  now  that  she  luul  gone 
(o  Gcorgiaiia  to-day;  she  would  go  to-niorrnw.  Malice  should  never  have  an 
abiding  place  in  that  heart.  It  might  have  it  in  other  people's  lierrls,  but  it 
never  should  Iwvc  it  in  that  one.  She  laid  herself  calmly  and  sweetly  upon 
her  bed,  and  was  forcibly  reminded,  as  she  thought  of  her.sclf  and  her  cunducl. 
of  the  beauty  and  the  serenity  of  a  summer's  evening. 

(•IIAITKR  VI 1. 

"In  iliat  same  place  tliou  hast  Miipoiiitcil  me 
To-morrow  Inily  will  I  meet  with  Mice.'' 

Midsunnuor  Niglit'a  Kri mn. 

.Mr.  I'tM  writheil  and  dialed  under  his  oath.  He  bogged  his  Georgy  to  iel 
him  t«ll  somebody.  Ife  swore  another  oath  that  lie  aUould  die  if  he  diiln'l. 
He  did  tell  it  there  in  the  house  several  times  to  imaginary  auditors,  after 
hx)king  out  of  the  iloors  and  windows  to  see  if  no  real  ones  wt;ro  near.  Kven 
wlien  he  was  out  of  doors,  he  went  all  about  whispering  <^xcitedly  to  himself, 
occasionally  laughing  most  tumiilttiously.    Geori^iana  became  uneasy. 


>       HUMOKbDS  TALES.  100 

Tap,  are  you  going  to  run  dibtraclcd  again  V 

'Georgy,  ef  I  don't  believe  I  am  I'll you  may  kill  mc' 

Georgiana  had  to  yield.  She  wished  to'sccMr,  Spouter  upon  a  little'niaUor 
of  business  connected  with  Mr.  Slack,  and  she  concluded  to  consent  for  him  to 
be  sent  for  and  her  Ailher  to  inform  him  of  what  she  saw  he  must  inevitably 
tell  somebody.  The  old  man  was  extremely  thankful,  but  he  wanted  to  make 
t  request. 

'Georgy,  you  must  let  me  send  for  Triplet.  I've  got  a  good  joke  on  Trip- 
let, a  powerful  joke  on  him.  And  he's  a  officer,  Georgy,  too,'  he  added,  se- 
riously. 

'Triplet  is  a  officer.  This  ease,  an'  a  leetlc  more,  im'  it  v.'ould  a  got  into 
ooto ;  an'  as  Triplet  ar'  a  officer,  he  ought  to  be  hero  in  cose.' 

Georgiana  consented  on  hearmg  this  last  argument.  But  she  expressly  en- 
joined upon  her  father,  that  at  any  period  of  his  disclosures,  when  she  called 
upon  him  to  stop,  he  liad  to  do  it.  He  promised  to  obey,  and  the  servant 
was  sent  into  Dukesborough  with  the  request  that  Messrs.  Spouter  &  Triplet 
should  come  out  the  next  morning  on  particular  business.  Georgiana  knew 
fully  what  she,  who  was  her  friend  but  now,  alas,  abandoned,  wa.s  thinkiii!; 
about,  and  therefore  she  was  included  in  the  summons. 

Early  the  next  morning  the  party  arrived.  Miss  Spouter  alighted  in  great 
agitation,  rushed  through  the  front  room  into  Georgiana's  who  was  there 
waiting  for  what  she  knew  was  to  jiappen,  looked  all  around  as  if  she  was  ex- 
])ecting  to  find  somebody  besides  Georgiana,  fell  tipon  her  in  the  old  way 
pronounced  her  pardon,  and  then  demanded  to  be  told  all  about  it.  Oh,  my! 
i  )readful !     Did  ever !     Vain  and  foolish  man  !     IIo\V  did  Georgiana  feel  ! 

Georgiana  led  h(jf  into  her  father's  room,  which  also  served  for  the  parlor. 
She  was  surpri.sed  i>nd  annoyed  to  find  Mr.  Pucket  there  wid'  the  other  gen- 
tlemen. Mr,  Pucket  liatl,  .someliow,  gotten  the  wind  of  it,  and  said  to  himself 
that  he  didn't  know ^vh^t  might  hapjien.  lie  had  been  told  by  an  old  lawyer 
that  the  only  way  for  a  young  man  to  succeed  at  the  bar  was  to  push  himself 
forward.  So  lie  determined  to  go,  ruid  he  went.  Uncle  Ben  was  glad  of  it. 
lie  was  going,  for  the  first  time  in  his  life,  to  make  a  speech,  and  he  wished  as 
large  an  audienee  as  possible.  No,  no;  in  cose  there  wern't  no  intrusion,  a!i<l 
IK)  nothin  of  the  sort,  nor  nofhiii  else. 
Georgiana  sat  very  near  lier  father. 
Then  he  opened  his  mouth  and  began  ; 

'You  see,  gentul-men,  it  was  all  ray  fault,  from  the  fust.  After  Georgy 
;eed  him  pbe  dichi't  think  much  of  him.  She  said  she  didn't  keer  aljout  mar- 
ryin  no  how,  and  cf  sho  did,  she  wanted  it  to  be  to  a  Southering  man.     But  I 


11<'  HUMORQCS  TALE-. 

and  him  too,  wo  overpersuadcd  hci.  llo'teoeiurd  to  think  bu  much  ot  me  au^i 
her  loo ;  and  he  had  a  store,  and  'pcarcd  like  a  man  well  to  do.  And  I  di«i 
wan^  to  sec  my  only  daughter  settle  herself.  The  fcclin  is  iiat'ral,  as  you  know 
yourself,  Mr.  Spouter:  all  parrcnts  that  hat;  daughterp.  has  'cm,  ain't  it  s'"'. 
Mr.  SpouterV  ▼* 

Mr.  Spoutcr  awsweml  rather  by  his  manner  than  in  words.  MiKs  Spoutn 
hccamc  confused,  and  didn't  look  at  Mr.  Pucket  when  he  coughed,  althftigli 
lie  was  a  marrieil  man.  Mr.  Triplet  had  s<'oii  s'liiiewhat  of  lif.-  in  liis  tinw 
still  he  took  a  chew  of  t  jbacco. 

'Go  on,  pap,'  said  Grorgiana. 

'Yes;  w*ll,  you  sec,  gcntulmcu,  sicli  it  war — any  ho\»  they  got  marrieti 
Gcorgy  said  when  she  gin  her  consent,  she  gin  it  to  keep  mc  from  rmmin  dis- 
tractcd,  as  it  did  'pear  likf  1  war.  llowbcever,  I  ar  clean  out  o'  that  now. 
Circumanccs  is  altered  powerful,  Well,  as  I  said,  any  how  they  got  marrie<l 
— that  is,  they  didn't  git  m;irried,  because  he  were  alroad}-  married  and  tha,\ 
warn't  no  law  for  it,  as  you  know  yourself,  Mr.  Pucket,  they  warn't.  But — 
ah — leastways  they  went  thron  the — ah — the  motions  and  the — ah — gittm  out, 
lisens,  and  the — ah — stannin  up  in  the  floor  and  jiniu  o'  hands,  and  he  wm*- 
hero  to  live.  Well  now,  don't  you  b'Icevc  that  Georgy,  she  spishonod  lum 
from  th«  very  fust  day:  for  mt  sonnor  were  he  married  hardly,  than  he  besan 
to  reach  Ijehind  every  nuke  auii  cnrner  about  here,  ami  before  night,  Ncsk  your 
Roul,-  he  knowcd  morc  about  whar  things  was  in  this  house  than  I  di<l.  Least- 
ways, Georgj'  says  .so,  and  its  oblecged  to  be  so;  for  tliere's  things,  many  o I 
'em  in  this  housf;  that  I  don't  know  whar  Ihay  are.'  And  Mr.  Pea  looked 
"iiround  and  .above,  taking  as  big  a  view  as  if  be  were  surveying  the  wbolr 
universe. 

'Well,  Geoq;^-,  she  ami  he  fuk  a  uall:  that  fust  evenflj.  Instid  ol"  talkin 
along  like  tother  folks  tbat'.s  jest  got  married,  ho  went  right  straight  to  talkin 
idjout  settlin  hisself,  and  put  at  her  to  begin  right  away  to  git  all  she  could 
out'n  me ;  which,  (ieorgy,  she  didn't  like  no  sich,  and  no  body  wouldn't  a 
likedjt  that  thought  anything  of  herself.  You  wouldn't,  Aufflinr  Spontor. 
.you  know  you  wouldn't,  the  very  fust  day  you  was  married.' 

'Go  on,  jia]»,  please.' 

'Yes,  well,  Georgy  spishuned  liiiu  agin  at  supper,  from  the  way  he  looked 
at  the  Bpoonti  on  the  table ;  which  ef  they  had  a  been  the  genuine  silver,  (hej- 

wouhUlit  a  l)een  in  this  hou.se  now,  to  my  opinion,  proMy,  Icastway.s,  ef , 

uucle  Ben  smiled  and  concluded  to  postpone  the  balance  of  this  sentence, 

'Well,  you  set',  Georgy  Ann,  arter  supper,  ^h8  got  sick,  the  did,  and  sh« 
hilt  on  to  her  head  powerful.     lu  cot3e  bed  time,  hit  had  to  come  arter  a  while, 


1 


HCM0R0\JB  TALLo.  Ill 

when  hit  did  couic,  she  weio  wussor,  ajid  she  givo  Lhal;  IcUct  :i  candle  lo  g(j 
long  to  bed  by  hisself .  When  she  weiib  to  bed,  I  tlipught  she  was  a  goiu  on 
in  thar  in  cose,  like  'tothcr  married  people ;  but  she,,instid  o'  that,  she  weni 
on  thoo  into  the  little  jiuin  back  room  and  slic  locked  the  door  artcr  her.  ,  1 
never  knowed  one  word  o'  tlii.s  untol  arter  bo  went  off.  Well,  artev  he  went 
to  sleep,  Georgy,  t^ho  heered  .i  mighty  groanin.  .So  she  ups,  she  does,  an 
onlocks  the  door  and  creeps  in  mighty  sly.  It  seem  •like  ho  ware  dreaming 
and  talkin  in  his  sleep  powcrfnl.  lie  called  names,  sich  as  Jcmimy,  Siu>an 
.lane,  Betsy  Ann,  and — what  was  all  them  njuaaes,  Georgy  ." 
•It-makes  no  difierence,  pap,  go  on.'  .     .. 

'^\jid  a  heap  more  of  'cm.  Georgy  can  tell  you.  Cobe  sho  heaa'd  'cm  over 
and  oftiug.  Well,  ho  seemed  to  be  powerful  shamed  of  allt)f  'em,  and  he  swor*^ 
he  worn'L  married  and  them  that  sHid  so  was  a  liar,  and  all  sich.  Well,  sioh 
ratrin  on  made  Georgy  b'levc  that  he  was  a»married  man  befo,  and  had  two 
nr  three  wives  already,  or  probat)lo  four  or  llv^c.  And  so  she  jist  wouldn't 
sleep  "with  him  no  how.  She — well,  iu  fac,  she  jist  didn't  think  she  was 
liable  too  sleep  with  him.  An'l  sir-  •'  ■  f—i.'  TrinlH.  'i  •  '■"■•  ■i'Thf,  w.nsn'l 
she  Triplet  ?"  " 

'In cose,' .answered  Mr.  Trip!'!. 
^Do  go  on,  pap.' 

Well,  yes.  Yit'still  she  didn't  let  on.  She  kept  up  tolerable  well  in  tlic 
day  time,  but  when  niglit  come,  Georgy  sho  kep  on  gittin  sick,  and  goin  into 
the  jinin  little  room.     I  never  seed  sich  carrin  on  befo.' 

[Jncle  Ben  would  stop  and  laugh  some.  Georgy  begged  him  to  go  on. 
'Well,  shekep  on  hearin  liim  a  goin  nu,  and  you  think  she  would  tell  mo 
the.  fust  thing  o'  all  this.  Ef  she  had  a  told  me,  howbeever,  tliat  aiiM-  neither 
here  nor  thar.  Well,  it  seem  he  talked  in  his  sleep  about  olher  people  1)c- 
sidfcs  wimming,  aliout  men  and  about  money,  and  declared  on  his  sold  that  he 
never  stole  it,  which  goes  ♦o  show  Georg}''  that  he  war  a  roguo  as  well  as  a 
rascal  about  wimming.  Yit  in  tins  time  he  liegin  to  hint  even  around  me 
about  property,  and  even  insinivated  that  he  would  like  to  have  the  whole 
pl.autation  .and  all  that's  on  it.'  tMr.  Pea  showed  plainly  by  hi.s mailtier,  after 
making  this  last  remark,  that  no  m.in  bad  evv  b:iil  nn  ambitmi'i  more  bonnd- 
less  than  the  late  Mr.  Slack. 

'But    I    ml^ty  soon    give   Ihm    I"    mi(li'i>i:nri|     iii:ii     II''    war    li;nkill    Iipllir 

wrong  treecf  bethought  I  was  uvyiixj  to  give  up  tliis  plantation  and  niy 
property  before  my  head  g<it  cojd.p Them's  always  fools  tbat  d(x;s  ij^< 

'Howbeever,  he  talkod  so  much'  abtmt  settlin  hisself,  and  po  easy  and  good 
about  Georgy,  and  how  that  all  he  kcered  al>out  property  wa;i  ff>r  bcr,  and  I 


llli  HOM^KOtS   TALEte. 

knowcd  that  was  all  I  kccrcd  about  it  for,  thati  told  liini,  I'd  pay  for  ii  niggiT 
niiifcn  for  'cm.  Well,  you  bcc.  I  no  sooner  sayh  that  thtfn  ho  ups  \vith  a  lie 
abriiit  liavin  to  go  to  Augusty.  But  shorr  ciiufl,  artor  he  had  boon  here 
two  or  tiircc  days,  he  had  to  go  t>>o  Augusty,  ir  .--nincwhar  else.  Bci*abC  he 
got  a  letter  which  bkecred  liim  powerful,  an  he  .stid  he  war  gcon  right  off.  1 
didn't  BpishuD  notbin  agin  the  man,  and  I  Icta  him  have  the  money  to  buy  the 
"'gger  'oman.  I  had  no  more  spishun  of  him.  .Iccnis  Triplet,  than  I  have  of 
you,  only  knowiii  that  he  wa.s  monstrous  fond  <■!'  money,  which  i.s  all  right 
enough,  ef  a  man  comes  by  it  honest.  Well,  (ieorgy  she  wa.s  tuk  back  tre- 
menduous  by  his  gittin  the  money  so  all  on  a  suddiug.  Yit  she  didn't  let  on, 
but  makes  out  like  she's  mighty  sorry  he  war  goin  so  soon,  but  mighty  glad 
he's  goin  to  fetch  lier  a  nigger  'oman  when  lie  lomc  back.  She  ha.-*  him  got  ii 
mighty  good  smack  of  vittles,  :ind  what  ain't  common  for  dinner,  .slie  puts  on 
the  table  a  plate  of  nice  fresh  butter  and  a  plenty  of  biscuit.  Triplet,'  Mr.  IVa 
now  looked  as  sly  and  as  good  humored  as  it  wa.»;  jio.ssible  for  him  to  be. 
'Triplet,  I've  got  a  go<xi  joke  on  you.' 

Mr.  Triplet  seemed  to  guess  what  it  was,  and  .smiled  subduedly. 

'You  know  what  you  said  aboul  my  never  seein  eertiiiL,'  peeple  and  lertinn* 
things — certing  property  no  more?' 

Mr.  Triplet  acknowledged  that  he  did. 

'Well,  Triplet,  part  of  it  wa.s  .so  and  part  of  it  were  not  ^d.  ;i||  which  lv>th  is 
jisl  as  I  wants  it  to  be.  Triph-t.  tUal  butter  and  them  biscuit  is  what  saved 
me.  lie  never  expected  to  t-at  no  more  tell  he  got  to  Augu.'^ty.  and  1  tell  you 
he  hiiDg  to  that  butter  ami  tlicm  bi.scuit.  While  he  wa.s  at  'em,  and  Georgy 
she  made  'eni  late  a  comin  in  a  purjiose.  she  takes  Honu-  old  keys  which  shu 
Iiad  picked  up,  and  finds  one  tlinl  cnuld  onhn-k  his  pelees(!  wliar  alie  si-cd  him 
put  the  money,  .ind  whar  sIkj  knowcd  he  keji  all  he  hail.' 

Uncle  Hen  inlendod  to  laugh  men'ilessly  at  Triplet,  but  he  was  stojjped  by 
the  .sight  of  Mr.  Pup.ket,  wIid  ijid  as  if  he  was  trying  to  swallow  somHthing  that 
was  t<X)  big  for  his  throat.  ^ 

'Ar  anything  the  matter  wiiii  ymi  Mr.  I'luUct?  Is  you  got  a  eold  >'  Ai 
your  thoat  soV'  a.sked  the  old  guntlemaii,  with  Juidisguiscd  interest: 

Triplet  snickered  as  Mr.  Pucket  denit>d  l)eing  sick, 

r'nclc  Ben  proceeded : 

'So  she  jest  opened  it  sly  as  a  miir  and  took  oiit  my  monev— ' 

'And  what  else'.''  eagerly  asked  Mr,  I'nckcl. 

'My  watrh.  that  the  villion  beg  me  lo  let  liim  lake  with  l>im  lo  liiivc  it 
worked  ou,  wliicli   I  didn't  like  no ' 

'What  elt^c  '."  asked  Mr.  Pucket  again.' 

'That's  the  last  j)int  I'm  a  comin  too,  autl  tli.ifs  why  (iinrgy  sent  arti-r  Mr. 
Sjiouter.  She  kuowed  that  he  owed  Mr.  Spuuter  thiny  dollars,  and  she  made 
up  her  mind  to  pay  the  debt  as  now  she  seed  his  money,  and  she  tuck  out 
thirty  dollars  o'  his  money,  which  here  it  ar  for  you  Mr.  flpouter.' 


'  BfUMOROUS    TALES.  113 

'I  garnishee  the  lliirly  ilolhus,' interposed  Mr.  Packet,  Loldiug  out  his  hands. 

'You  arc  too  lafr,'  answered  Mr.  iSpouter,  taking  the  money,  putting  it  intu 
liis  pocket,  and  lookiivj;  ns  if  lie  had  gotten  in  again  after  being  onsted  by  Mr. 
Slack. 

'Can't  I  garuishce.  'I'riplel  .'' 

'Garnishee  for  win!  V 

'For  my  fee?' 

•Fee  for  wliat  ?' 

'Why,  for  my  snvioi'S  in  — ah, —  coninig  out  here  on  two  occasions.' 

•Well  you  can't  garnishee.' 

^[r.  Triplet  looked  as  if  he  was  ashamed  of  Mr.  Puckel.  Uncle  Ben  hoped 
then;  was  goin'  to  bo  no  bad  fcelinp,  and  no  difficulties. 

'Certainly  not,'  answered  Mr.  Triplet.  'Mr.  I'ucket  ar'  a  young  lawyer,  and 
forgot  at  the  niinit  that  it  war  other  people  that  owed  him  for  his  services  in 
slid  of  Mr.  Slack.  Besicks,  fnrthcrmo,  Mr.  Pucket  ought  to  know  that  yon 
ean't  garnishee  jJst  dry  so,  without  Inst  gittin'  out  some  sort'o'  paper  from  the 
cote.  That  would  take  so  inucli  time  that  Spouter,  here,  monl.sijend  his  thirty 
dollars  bcfo  he  got  it,  that  is,  ef  Spouter  wanted  too.'  Mr.  'i'riplet  looked  in- 
terrogatingly at  the  'tother  gentleman. 

•Yes,  cf  I  wanted  too,'  answered  Mr:  .S.,  oraculously: 

'But,'  pcr.''i3ted  Mr.  Packet,  'there  was  other  monies.' 

•Whar?' asked  Mr.  Triplet. 

'In  Mr.  Slack's  trunk.' 

'Xo  they  want,'  answered  Mr.  Pei,  who  thou;;lil  he  ought  to  keep  Mr. 
Tucket  to  the  true  word.     'They  was  in  his  pelccpc ." 

•Well,  in  his  pelcesc.  Tliat  makes  no  dilTerencc,'  a;id  Mr.  Pucket  looked  as 
if  he  thought  he  had  them  on  that  point. 

'l^adcet,'  said  Triplet.'  'it  won't  make  no  diflercncc.  Yon  are  right.  It  don't 
make  nary  Ijit  o'  difcrcnco  with  no  body,  nor  with  your  fee  neither.  That  fee 
ar'  a  lost  b.all.  They  aint  no  money  here  to  ])ay  it  with,  an'  cfthcrc  was,  it 
would  be  Mr.  Slack's  lawyer,  and  not  you  that  would  git  it.  Well,  gin  it  ii|i 
and  another  time  try  to  have  better  luck.' 

Mr.  Pucket  !ra,'!  a  young  lawyer,  and  was,  in  jiart,  owned  by  Mr.  Triplet. 
So  he  subsided.  Uncle  Ben  looked  troubled,  until  tke  sheriff  assured  him  that 
there  could  be  no  difficulties.  'Co  on,  uncle  Ben.     You  got  your  gun,  of  cours  ?' 

'Triplet, you  rascal'!  You  may  laugh  ;  but  I  don't  want  the  gun.  lie  muy 
keep  it,  and  do  what  he  pleases  with  it,  even  to  blowin'  out  liis  own  thevious 
brains  with  it  for  what  i  kccr.     He's  welcome  to  the  irun.     You  Triplet  I' 

'Don't  mind  me,  ancle  lien.    Co  on.' 

'Well,  thar's  lots  ntbrc  to  tell  el  Gcorgy  woukl  only  let  me  ;  and  some  Uiings 
a.i  would  make  you  laugh  powerful.  Trii)let,  cf  you  was  to  hear  "cm.  But  she's 
made  me  swar,  actily  swar.  that  I  won't  tell  without  her  leave.  Maybe  shell 
tell  your  ole  'oman  ?omc  o'  thrse  days.  Well,  1  felt  mighty  glad  when  I  g»t  my 
money  back,  and,  rf  any  thing,  a  wop.-er  gladder  when  1  got  back  my  watch 
agin.  TripldL  when  1  seed  her,'  (and  the  old  man  drew  out  a  watch  ns  big  nnd 
:ls  rouncl  as  a  turnip  .'i  when  1  seed  her  agin,  cl  I  didn't  cry  you  may  kill  me. 
I've  had  her  thirty  year,  and  none  o'  your  new- (angled  ones  can  boat  her  run' 
nin'  when  you  clean  her  onl  and  keep  her  sot  right  with  the  sun.  Ah,  well, 
he  continue*!,  putting  it  b.adc  and  shaking  his  foot  in  mild  satisfaction  ;  •tin" 
thing  is  over,  and  the  best  of  it  .nil  ftr'  that  — -' 

'Hush  pap.'  said  Ceorgiana.  raising  her  Guger.  jjjj 


114 


HUMOnODfe    TALEi. 


The  oli^Uiay  smiled  uad bushed. 

After  hearing  pans  of  the  storj  over  teveral  times,  the  party  lobe  to  go. 
Air.  Triplet  rising,  eaid  that  in  cose  it  war  not  aDV  of  his  bisines',  but  be  would 
like  to  ux  Miss  Ucorgy  oue  (jucstion.  ef  bi^  wouldn't  lie  considered  a.^  mcddlin' 
with  what  didn't  belong  to  him  ;  and  that  waswhy  .-^be  didn't  Itll  on  llio  viilion 
ag  soon  as  she  found  bim  oat.     (icori;iana  answered  : 

'Well,   Mr.   'JViplet,  I  many  times   thought  ]  would  ;  l)ut  yon  sec  1  did'nl 
liDOW  for  certain  that  be  bad  done  all  the  things  that  I  was  afraid  he  had.     Be- 
sides, Mr.  Tiiplet,  even  if  ho  wai^nt  my  husband,  I  oue   time   tbou,c;fct  he  was  ;^ 
and  before  God   and  mpn,  I  had  promi.sed  to  be  fai'hful  to  him.     And  then  he!* 
had  staid  in  this  bouse,  and  eat  at  our  table,  and —and  called  pap  father,  and— 
and— and—  Well,  Mr.  Triplet,  somybow-it  d'dn't  look   right   forme  to  be  th<* 
lirst  one  to   turn   against   him;  and— and  when  1  did  think  of  telling  on  him. 
somctbiug  would  ri.se  up  and  tell  me  that  I  ought  not' 

'Wimming  aiut  like  men  vo  bow.  lincle  B.n,'  said  'i'ripl<  i.  wijiiag  his  eye  :• 
he  bade  him  good  bye,  •       ' 

'Xotheyaint,  Triplet,' and  be  laid  hie h<|nd  foudly  on  Jiiis  daughter's  ahoul- 
il-r  while  ^e  tear.s  ran  down  his  cheeks. 

The  visitors  now  left,  all  except  Miss  Spouter.  JShc  wished  to  get  behind 
the  scenes  and  km  av  more.  Jlow  much  more  she  learmd  I  cannot  say.  They 
went  to  bed  early  when  the  day  ended,  and  to  ^eeplatc.  Tliere  was  something 
which  made  them  easily  reunite.  It  wa,s  a  pity.  Miss  SpoiiyLcr  imagined  that 
^be  jiitied  her  friend  because  she  hud  been  deceived  by  a  man.  even  more  than 
Im-.-jcIf  liad  ever  been,  and  becaTKc  of  the  hurtful  inllucuce  whicli  that  decep- 
tion would  probably  exert  upon  any  future  expectations  of  marria.<:«.  Mit^s 
Pea,  who,  instead  of  having  any  regrets,  fcft  relief  in  the  thought  that  hence-  • 
fortli  her  fatlicr  would  be  satisfield  to  allow  her  to  manage  such  matters  for 
herself,  and  that  .slic  should  be  satisfied  to  have  nond  to  manage,  really  pitied 
iiei-  friend  because  she  j-et  yearned  for  an  impossible  estate.  When  tlie  time 
'•amc  for  them  togo  to  slec]!,  (and  Georgiana  thought  it  long  coining)  she 
did  )iot  w^it  a. moment.  Jiliss  Spouter  lay  awake'some  time  finther.  She 
pondered  lojig  on  Avhat  .she  liad  heard.  It  was  strange.  It  w:is  almost  like  a 
novel.  Howeoidd  George  be  still  the  .same  Georgiana  Pea"?  She  had  been 
Mrs.  Si|pk,  Wasn't  slw  Mrs.  Slack  now;  and  how.  oh  !  how  excitmg every- 
thing must  Ekvc  been.  Her  thoi\ghts  followed  Mr.  Slack  a  while  ;  but  he  was 
so  far  away  that  tJiey  came  back  and  wont  looking  after  Mr.  Bill  Williams. 
He  wat)  not  nmch,  b«^t  he  was  sometliiug.  Ue  had  never  exhibited  any  regard 
for  her  j^et,  but  it  was  possible  that  he  would  some  day.  He  Avas  at  least  ten 
years  younger  than  herself.  But  lier  curls  Avere  the  same  as  ever,  and  besides, 
were  not  marriages  made  in  Heaven?  or  were  they  noWi  lottery,  or  something 
..f  the  sort  ?  Who  knows  ?  Mr.  Bill  Williams,  after  all,  might  be  the  very 
one  to  whom  the  some  tiling  in  her  alluded  when  it  had  po  repeatedly  told 
lieri^liat  she  was  destined  to  make  some  man  so  happy.  Then  her  mmd 
I  turned  aj^ain,  and  notwithstanding  Mr.  Slack's  groat  distance  aluad,  it  started 
torth  in  the  direction  he  had  taken.  She  dwelt  upon  his  strange  conduct  and 
his  runniug  away,  and  although  it  was  plain  that  he  had  done  the  like  before, 
and  when  he  had  never  Been  her  nor  heard  of  her,  yet,  she  Jialfway  persuaded 
her.seilf|hat  she  v.as  the  cause,  though  the  perfectly  iu^ocent  cause,  of  it  all. 
Yes,  yes  V  she  v/as  saying  to  herself,  a$  sleep  stole  upon  her  at  last,  'he  is 
^  jdc.  but  the  image  of  Angeline  Spouterlh  in  hig.breasi,  and  it  will  stay  there 
forever.'  |^  ^    ' 


JUST    PUBZ.ZSHZ2D. 

<  AMP  FOLLOWER 


'I"'    II     1/:        <   •    ■:    -   'i.  '    JL\         k        t    %.M   JLA.   '1^  ; 

TI1K  WIFE'S  SimTAWEM, 

HoW    1    COATED    SAL.*, 


WHARNO  . 

Aiul     in:l4'V     nth' 


THE    CHAMPIO>. 

iS.  THAR  THg  FIRE  GmrR  OUT 


AMiMiMJiiAT  OF  TIJE  CASir, 


j.^u. 


'T"";"\T" 


'!'.;!.-,_>  ijiym'-Mtis  oi'  an  Idle  Woman,"    "  I.;:iy,  '   "Sylvia'o 

Wuv].]."    ,Vr.    Sir.  t 


05-"*Thc  trad*",  supplicil  ut  the  usual  discount.     Alt  qrde;' 
be  accompanied  \vith  tlio  casu,  and  addrcsst>d  to 

STOCKTON  fit  CO. 

A^'!U^f 


Field  iand  Fireside 

\   I  IKST  (LASS  Y\yU]A  .MHKWL. 

n"i'.i.isiii:it  \T   \\.Kf\  -\  K   I.  \.  Y,\       *i^ 

TBniaS    CASH    IN    ADVANCE. 

Siniilt*    C<n.»y,    Six    "Moiitli-,     ------     $U).(.m». 


GREAT    INDUCEMENTS  TO  CLUBS. 

Till'"-'-  ('"|>ic-.  for  Six  M«'iiili< .  .  sl>.").(i(.( 

§'  ;"'  -         '1»>         'I-      .  .  ...    .'»(»,()()  . 

];'itr<-cii    (  Mi.ic.        ,1,,  '\<>^:r:.: lun.oit 

All.  ()r(lei-s  mu<t  Iw  .•icc.inprmicd  \vitli  tlif  ('':\<]\.  -ul- 
(.Iressed  as  .•il)()ve. 


Ai0.i^^m^hf^'"'^^^^'^^ 


m^lfi^^^'^^^-^^h 


fi&imiimmm 


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